


and the world will be better for this

by theputterer



Series: Binary Star Systems [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015), Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate History, Alternate Universe, Angst, Attempt at Humor, Author Pleads Creative License When It Comes to the Force, Ben Solo Is Not Kylo Ren, Canonical Character Death, F/M, Family Secrets, Finn and Rey: Chaos Twins, Jedi Ben Solo, Kylo Ren & Ben Solo are Different People, Look At Your Life Look At Your Choices, Lots of Jedi Fun, Movie: Star Wars: The Force Awakens, Repressed Memories, Suicidal Thoughts, What if Leia and Han Had a Son Who Was Not A Villain?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-18
Updated: 2020-02-17
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:14:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 61,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22306288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theputterer/pseuds/theputterer
Summary: A scavenger, an ex-stormtrooper, and a most wanted droid escape a desert wasteland only to run right into an independent cargo hauler named Ben. He's got sad eyes, a mysterious past, the total trust of the droid carrying a map to the Last Jedi, and a fear of Kylo Ren. No one in this ship wants to get involved with the First Order, or the Resistance.But some things cannot be outrun. Some pasts cannot be forgotten. Some light cannot be extinguished. And some choices were always inevitable.[Or: Ben Solo is not the one who becomes Kylo Ren, in this TFA AU.]
Relationships: Rey/Ben Solo, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Series: Binary Star Systems [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1616866
Comments: 112
Kudos: 250





	1. To reach the unreachable star

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stars die all the time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you are here because you read the [Cassian Andor Nonsense](https://archiveofourown.org/series/700761) : I'M SURPRISED TOO. This is a new nightmare I've been working on, off and on, for well over a year and recently finished while trying to put together a post-TROS Fima & Ersa story.

_Stars die all the time._

The first words he remembers hearing.

He knows that this cannot actually be true; first off, he would have already learned Basic by that point, to understand the sentence, not to mention have a capacity to make sense of the words and what they mean. But it’s the first thing he actively _remembers_ hearing, the first fact he remembers learning, a whisper in his ear.

His little hands, tangled in his mother’s long brown hair.

_“Stars die all the time, Ben.”_

_“Where do they go?”_

He was young, so young, and he wishes he could remember exactly _why_ she was telling him this, what she thought her three-year-old son could possibly gain from the knowledge. He only remembers the tone of her voice, that tint of melancholy; an old ache he could never figure out how to soothe. He could only ever embrace her when he heard it, clinging tightly to her neck, as if he could transfer his warmth to her through that thin movement. Through the connection in the Force they’d shared since before he really lived.

He never did get an answer.

On what happens to stars after they die. Where they go.

Some twenty-two years later, he leans back in his chair, and looks at the stars above. He tries to bury his loneliness deep down, tries to anchor himself among the pinpricks of light, a grand reminder that he is not, despite all evidence to the contrary, entirely alone.

_Where do they go?_

And then, the logical follow-up:

 _Where do_ I _go?_

The answer to this question seems just as mysterious, unknown, and out of his reach. He tucks his jacket in closer to him, the cold of deep space suddenly overwhelming. His gloved knuckles brush against the charm he never takes off; a single gold die, hanging from a leather cord. He grips it between two fingers, studying how it seems to glow even in the dark.

It is the closest thing to a familial comfort that he can allow.

A shrill beeping interrupts his thoughts.

He straightens, nearly toppling out of the chair, his boots slamming onto the floor in an effort to keep himself upright. He leans forward, surveying the dash, locating the alert echoing throughout the freighter.

It’s one of the scanners, one he’d set up after acquiring the freighter, one he’d set up in an act of routine; not because he thought something was actually going to come out of it, but because he would always be his father’s son and sometimes that means partaking in his rituals without really thinking about them. This scanner, in all its forms, on all the ships it’s been set up on, has been dormant for years, never making so much as a beep. Until now.

“No frinking way,” he mutters.

She’s so close, too.

He won’t even have to make a jump to reach her.

He starts up the freighter, moving it in the direction the scanner is indicating, prepping to make an interception, all the while firing up the tractor beam. And then he sits, staring out the window, and he waits.

He’s no longer looking at the stars, feeling lonely and lost.

He has a target. A purpose.

At the very least: a good story.

He watches, and-- _Yes._

There she is, looking just as she did the last time he saw her. Beaten and battered, but still flying.

He can’t help but smile.

_There you are, old girl._

The tractor beam locks on to the _Millennium Falcon._

Ben gets to his feet, and makes his way down to the main hangar.

* * *

Getting the door of the _Falcon_ to open is child’s play; literally, somewhat, in that Ben has been opening and closing the door of the _Falcon_ since he was a child. He was far too young to do anything else with the _Falcon_ (or so his parents insisted) which meant he was left with the task of opening and closing the door whenever the need arose.

His father had indulged him, once or twice, by making a big show of forgetting things, requiring him to be let off and on the _Falcon_ a dozen times before a trip.

His mother had rolled her eyes, but Ben had delighted in the task, feeling helpful, and capable.

Now, he darts up the entry ramp, blaster ready, demand on his tongue--

And no one is there.

He frowns, refusing to let himself take in the interior of the ship fully, trying to ignore the faint smell of mildew and oil (as always) and focuses. There needs to be at least one sentient creature on this ship, as the _Falcon_ only requires one pilot to fly, though it’s difficult; there are most likely at least two people onboard.

He closes his eyes.

A very soft _clink._

By the time he opens his eyes again, he’s already moving, standing over one of the hidden smuggling compartments. He bends, and yanks it up--

Coming face to face with two very scared people.

They’re both young, younger than him, with oxygen masks covering half their faces, just under their similar brown eyes. The boy’s skin is black and slightly sweaty, black hair cut short, shoulders and arms covered by a leather jacket that is vaguely familiar to Ben. Crouched next to him is a girl, brown hair tied back in an odd three-bun style, pale skin flushed, hands tense around a couple pipes, clearly caught in the act of doing something catastrophic.

For a moment, he can only stare.

The girl; she _shines._

The boy is _light,_ too; or, at least, he has the potential to be. Something has stomped his lightness out of him, or repressed it. It’s odd. Ben doesn’t even know how such a thing might have happened.

He can’t dwell on it long; the girl’s light is so overwhelming, and he has dozens of questions.

“Who the hell are you?” he asks.

“Who are _you?”_ the boy returns, and Ben supposes this is fair.

They don’t look very threatening, what with the light and their youth, so he sighs, and straightens, making a show of holstering his blaster. “Come on out. And take those masks off, I can barely hear you.”

Thankfully, they listen, and he keeps his distance as they clamber out of the compartment. The boy is dressed all in black, save for that jacket, while the girl is dressed in what appears to be an assortment of tan and white rags.

For a moment, it’s quiet, the three of them eyeing one another, sizing each other up.

Distantly, he wonders what he looks like to them.

Tall, too tall, with black hair and clothes that hadn’t seen the inside of a sonic washer in weeks.

_Wary. Sad. Annoyed. Angry._

He breathes, as if even breathing can make him suddenly not be those things.

“Is there anyone else onboard?” he asks. “Where’s the pilot?”

“No,” the girl says, automatically. “I’m the pilot.”

She still has a wrench clenched in her hand, and he looks down at it pointedly, and she sighs, tossing it aside. The boy’s eyes track the movement, turning to look at her beseechingly.

“Okay,” Ben says. “Do you want to tell me where you found the _Millennium Falcon?”_

Both the girl and boy stare at him, somehow looking more shocked than they had when he pulled up the lid of the smuggling compartment.

“This is the _Millennium Falcon?”_ the girl exclaims, her quiet caution evaporating, turning into unrestrained delight.

Ben looks around them, taking in the boot scuff marks on the floor, the singe marks from errant blaster shots, the wiring that’s exploded out of cupboards. Between his excitement at seeing the ship again, and his vigilance in finding out who was on it, he’d failed to take in these details, all of which would be simple notes to others, but are quietly devastating to him.

“It used to be,” he murmurs.

Before he can get too lost in his melancholy, he squares his shoulders, and looks at the other two.

“Since I’ve named the ship you’ve been flying, apparently,” he snaps. “Why don’t you tell me _your_ names.”

“I’m Rey,” the girl says. “This is Finn.”

First names only. He can work with that.

“I’m Ben,” he says, and they nod at him, shoulders relaxing somewhat, apparently deciding that he isn’t going to kill them now that they’ve all been introduced. “So; now can you tell me where you found the _Falcon?”_

“Niima Outpost,” Rey replies, and before he can ask, she adds, “Jakku.”

He snorts a laugh, and the two startle, surprised by the noise.

“Sorry,” he says, flushing a little. “It’s just, ah. Never would have thought to look there. Jakku is not too far from here, yeah? An old battleground?”

“A junkyard,” Finn amends, and Rey practically bristles.

“That sounds about right,” Ben agrees with a nod, causing Finn to look pointedly at Rey. “Who had it?” 

“Unkar Plutt,” Rey says. “And the Irving Brothers before him. And then Ducaine.”

Ducaine had been pretty high up on the List of Potential _Falcon_ Thieves, and so Ben isn’t too surprised to hear this confirmed now.

But before he can add anything else, there’s the sound of steel cables, and he turns, to see an orange and white droid hoist itself out from under below.

Rey spins around, hissing, “I told you to wait--”

Ben interrupts her, his voice almost cracking in surprise, “BB-8?”

The droid beeps happily at him, confirming its identity, and Ben can’t help but grin, dropping to his knees, holding his hands out.

“How did you get here?” he asks, running his palms over the droid’s sides. He can feel recent dents and divots, grains of sand stuck under the edges of the droid’s plates.

BB-8 practically _deflates_ at his question.

Cold sweeps through Ben, and he’s on his feet in the next second, blaster once again pointed at Rey and Finn. Rey’s eyes go wide, automatically raising her hands in front of her in a clear gesture of surrender, while Finn takes a step forward, positioning himself slightly in front of her.

Ben can feel the anger bubbling in him, and so he bites his tongue, focusing on keeping his breathing even. _Don’t get angry, don’t get angry, stay calm, stay calm._

“Tell me everything,” he says. “Starting with how you came to have this droid.”

* * *

They do.

The whole thing.

Or; part of the whole thing.

He sits the two of them down on the lounge seat next to the hologram board and remains standing, arms crossed over his chest, and he listens.

He thinks Rey is telling the truth. She says she’s a scavenger from Jakku, that she was minding her own business when she encountered BB-8, saving him from certain capture and death by loss of his parts. She says she only meant to get BB-8 to town, to try and see if he could find his master that way, until BB-8 spotted Finn, wearing his master’s jacket.

“Poe Dameron,” Ben says, and of _course_ that’s Poe’s jacket. He’d thought it had looked familiar.

Both Rey and Finn frowned at Ben’s correct identification of Poe before Rey pressed on.

First Order stormtroopers converged on them, along with TIE fighters, and Rey and Finn stole the _Falcon_ (“the garbage,” Rey says, and Ben is more amused than offended) and managed to outgun and outrun the TIE fighters, escaping from Jakku, and running into Ben.

Ben thinks Rey’s story is true.

Finn’s, however, may not be.

He says he’s with the Resistance, and Ben isn’t so sure about that, because there is something about Finn that is so guarded and afraid that doesn’t speak to someone who’s part of a band of merry, determined, hardcore rebels. But Finn’s intentions seem good, so he’ll let it slide for now. He says he encountered Poe on the _Finalizer,_ a First Order Star Destroyer (and Rey startles at this admission) and the two of them escaped on a TIE fighter, until they were shot down over Jakku. They landed in the desert, and while Finn got out alive, Poe was killed.

BB-8 wilts during this story.

Ben’s hands tighten into fists at his sides.

He turns to the droid. “I’m sorry.”

BB-8 trills at him: _It isn’t your fault._

“If only,” Ben murmurs, and while Finn frowns, lacking an understanding of binary, Rey is staring hard at Ben, confusion and unease in her features.

He shrugs it off.

“Why does the First Order want BB-8?” he asks. “If Poe is dead, then why--”

Realization strikes him. He looks down at the droid.

“What are you carrying?”

“A map to Luke Skywalker, apparently,” Finn says, dismissively.

Time stops.

Ben closes his eyes.

_He is seven years old, and his uncle is standing over him, smiling, the sun making a halo behind his head. He crouches next to Ben, resting his hands on his knees, the sunlight glinting off the mechanical fingers of his right hand._

_“It’s time, Ben. Don’t be afraid.”_

“Ben?”

His name comes from Rey. He opens his eyes, and sees that Rey and Finn are watching him, some concern and plenty of bewilderment distorting their faces.

He swallows, and turns to BB-8.

“Can I see it?”

The droid beeps an affirmative, rolls a foot ahead, and blue light fills the room.

He hears Finn and Rey get to their feet, and the three of them stand in the blue, looking around in silence, taking it in. Ben studies the systems around his head, the planets and moons and asteroid fields, the supernovas and suns and uncharted territories. Nothing is labeled, and nothing looks familiar. There is a track running through it all, but he doesn’t recognize the run by its shape.

It could be any sliver of the galaxy, or nothing at all.

“It’s incomplete,” Rey breathes, and he nods.

“Of course it is,” he says, and he can’t prevent the bitterness from coming out.

_It’s time, Ben._

“We can still get it to the Resistance, though,” Rey says suddenly, and he turns to look at her. She and Finn are roughly the same height, both much shorter than him, but he’s used to automatically turning his head down to talk to someone. Her eyes are bright, and flickering from him to BB-8 and back, and that _light_. “We can get BB-8 home, he knows you. You’re with the Resistance, right?”

Ben sighs. “No.”

_“No?”_

The exclamation comes from Finn, and Ben looks at him.

_Definitely not with the Resistance, then._

“I’m not,” Ben says. “I… I’m familiar with it. But I’m not welcome there.”

Both Rey and Finn take a step back from him, their earlier caution and distrust returning.

“Why not?” Rey asks, and there is a note of anger in her voice, like she’s preparing herself to physically attack him, and he fights down his smile.

“It was a mutual decision,” he tells her. “Made in everyone’s best interests.”

Rey still looks hesitant, but Finn seems to be okay with this explanation.

“I’ll still help you,” Ben interjects. “I’ll help you get BB-8 to the Resistance.”

He glances down at BB-8, who turns his head up to meet Ben’s eyes.

“You okay with that?” Ben asks.

 _Of course!_ BB-8 replies, and Ben smiles, and Rey looks between the two of them.

* * *

He disembarks, leaving Finn and Rey alone in the _Falcon,_ but he keeps BB-8 with him, so he doesn’t believe they’ll take off without him.

 _Where have you been?_ BB-8 demands, rolling to keep up with him.

“Around,” Ben replies. “But I’d say you’re having more thrilling adventures than me.”

_You could come back with me._

Ben snorts. “No. It’s better this way.”

_For who?_

“Everyone,” Ben snaps.

He’s reached his room, the space he’s made his own and been sleeping in for the last two months. BB-8 watches him as he moves around, gathering his things together, aimlessly tossing them all into one bag. It barely takes three minutes, and there might be something tragic even in that.

“Finn isn’t with the Resistance, is he?” Ben asks.

 _No,_ BB-8 replies. _I don’t know where he came from. But I like Rey._

Ben nods. He straightens, hoisting his bag over his shoulder, checking his pockets to make sure he has all the credits he won in that bar on Rattatak.

 _You’re going to take our ship,_ BB-8 accuses.

“I wouldn’t do such a thing,” Ben replies. “I’m not my father.”

BB-8 trills a dissenting opinion, and Ben smiles.

* * *

“So you’re coming with us?” Rey asks, upon his return minutes later, falling into step with him as he walks to the cockpit, Finn and BB-8 at their heels.

He doesn’t answer her for a moment, as he’s stepped into the cockpit, and warm feelings, feelings associated with _home,_ and nostalgia, and family, and _love,_ overtake him. He nearly staggers, overwhelmed by it all, wrapping his hand around the back of a seat, trying to pass off the movement as casual. It all looks so familiar, and so foreign. The _Falcon_ has a way of doing that, he thinks. It barely changes, and so stepping into it feels like you’ve become unmoored in time, like it could be any year, in any galaxy, in any universe.

The past, the present, and the future: on a collision course.

But he’s much taller than he was the last time he was in the _Falcon,_ and he has to duck to settle into the pilot’s chair.

“Yes,” he says, in response to Rey’s question. He studies the gears and systems, looking for anything out of place or in need of repair; he wonders if Rey had to make any adjustments. “You need a clean ship to get you to the Resistance. The _Falcon_ is too well-known; anyone could find it.”

“Like you did?” Finn asks, a challenge in his voice.

“Sort of,” Ben replies.

 _But I’m not anyone._

He nudges Rey aside to check the comlink. She moves away automatically, landing in the co-pilot’s seat. 

“So what happens to this ship?” Rey asks, practically bristling. “I suppose you intend to keep it?”

“I can give it back to Han Solo, if that makes you feel better.”

It’s almost like he’s told them the First Order has been obliterated, with the way their faces light up.

“The smuggler?” Rey exclaims.

“The Rebellion general?” Finn demands.

“And war hero,” Ben notes, dryly, imagining the look on the very man’s face if he could hear them now.

“You know him?” Rey asks.

Ben nods. “We’ve met.”

_“Careful, kid,” his father snaps, hands reaching out to snag Ben, pulling him back from the controls. “Don’t want you accidentally engaging the sublight engines on your mother, do we?”_

_He hoists Ben into his lap, and Ben laughs, laughing even more when his father powers the ship up, making lights dance over the control panel before him, the stars above--_

_“Stars die all the time, Ben,” his mother whispers._

He pulls himself back to the present, to the same cockpit, filled with strangers.

Finn. Rey.

Ben.

“I’ll take you to a safe harbor,” he says, pulling the engine start levers, smiling at the familiar rumble. Finn sits down behind Rey. “We can get a message to the Resistance from there, and they’ll send someone to pick you up. I’ll wait with you until they do. And then I go on my merry way.”

“To Han Solo?” Rey checks.

“To Han Solo,” Ben repeats.

He leans back, and surveys the pair of them, BB-8 hovering in the doorway.

“Deal?” he asks.

Finn and Rey exchange a glance, and Ben waits. 

They come to a resolution, with Rey nodding, and turning back to him.

“Deal,” she says.

“Good,” Ben replies. “Let’s go.”

“Wait!” Finn calls, leaning forward, staring at Ben. “What about your freighter?”

It takes Ben a moment to figure out what Finn is talking about.

“Oh,” he says, shrugging. “It isn’t mine. Not really.”

“What do you--”

“Let’s just say I was going to have to ditch the freighter soon anyway,” Ben interrupts. “And you’ve saved me the trouble of having to find a new ship.”

Finn and Rey seem oddly wary over this revelation, and Ben has to roll his eyes.

“I’m not the only ship thief in this _room.”_

They seem to recognize his point, though Finn looks unimpressed, while Rey almost looks scandalized. He wonders if this is due to her history as a scavenger, if she sees the freighter and automatically calculates how much she could sell its parts for. Part of him wants to defend himself against the accusation in her eyes, and he isn’t sure why this is; none of this truly matters. He’ll give them a lift to Takodana, and go on from there. He’ll very likely never see either of them again.

“What’s that?”

He startles, and follows Finn’s pointed finger.

A ship hovers just outside the hangar, guns up and ready, aimed to fire directly on them.

“Skrag,” Ben swears.

“Is it the First Order?” Rey asks, leaning forward.

“No,” Finn says, frowning, studying the ship. So if Finn isn’t Resistance… 

“It’s the Guavian Death Gang,” Ben says, spotting the insignia spray-painted on the ship’s side. 

“Are they after BB-8?” Rey asks, voice rising with anxiety and bewilderment.

 _Unlikely,_ Ben thinks.

“They shouldn’t know this ship has BB-8,” Ben replies. “They aren’t tracking the droid. They’re tracking the _Falcon.”_

The comlink begins to flash, but he ignores it for the moment, turning to Finn and Rey. “You two can fire the guns alright?”

“One of the gunners got jammed in forward position,” Finn says.

This is not optimal, but they can work around it.

“You take the one that’s still functional,” Ben says, and Finn nods. Ben turns back to Rey. “You; start charting a course. We’re way off the major trade routes, which helps us, but we may have to hop onto the Great Gran Run to get to Takodana.”

“Takodana?” Rey repeats. “Is that where we’re going?”

Ben thinks he could have led with that.

“Yes,” he says, and glances back at Finn. “Hurry!”

Finn goes, but not before shooting one last worried look at Rey. She gives him a firm nod, and he leaves, boots thudding over the smuggling compartments.

“Talk to the navigation,” Ben says, looking down at the ignition line. _Who the hell put a compressor there?_ “We’ll have to rely on the computer to tell us how to get there. I’m not familiar enough with the Western Reaches to plot a course myself. Are you?”

“I’ve never left Jakku,” Rey replies, and if he weren’t busy trying to get them out of this mess, he’d stare.

“Hell of a day for you,” he mutters, and Rey huffs in agreement. “I should warn you now: the main computer is made up of three separate droid brains, which makes it a bit of a mess. They bicker. Be authoritative and they’ll fall in line.” 

Rey does stare at him. “How do you--”

“Talk later,” he interrupts. “Chart now.”

Rey hesitates for a moment before acquiescing with a nod. Ben turns to the still-flashing comlink, pausing for a moment to send a quick threat to wherever Han Solo might be at this moment.

_I am going to kill you for this._

He presses the comlink. “Go ahead.”

“Han Solo,” a male voice calls in accented Basic, and Rey stills, while Ben sighs.

 _I am_ so _going to kill you for this._

“Wrong number,” he says, and Rey returns to her work.

“This is the _Millennium Falcon--”_

“Which has a history of being stolen,” Ben interrupts. “If you’re looking for Solo, you’re looking in the wrong place. He isn’t here.”

It is a kind of lie, but not the kind that should matter.

“Can I tempt you with a freighter?” Ben asks. “It’s, ah, a bit empty at the moment, but primed and ready for any trade run. Or smuggling. I know the First Order pays well for you to do their trading for them.”

Rey freezes, and Ben shrugs at her, impatiently nodding to the computer.

“Han Solo will come for the _Falcon,”_ the voice says, suddenly thoughtful.

“He hasn’t had it for a while,” Ben notes. “Maybe he doesn’t care anymore.”

But if there’s one thing Ben knows for certain about Han Solo: it’s that when he decides he does care about something, he never stops caring for it. The _Millennium Falcon_ is no exception. He’s hoping the Guavian Death Gang doesn’t know this, though.

“I’d say it’s worth a shot,” the man says, and Ben sighs again, turning to Rey.

 _Okay?_ He mouths, and she nods.

“Finn, are you ready?” he calls.

“I wish people would stop asking me that,” Finn mumbles, and Ben takes this as an affirmative.

“What are you--”

Ben cuts the voice off, shoving the throttle forward, and they lurch out of the freighter.

It is not the most elegant of take-offs, but he’s trying to avoid running headlong into the Guavian Death Gang ship directly in front of them, and so he counts this as a job well done. He can’t hear the Gang member anymore, comlink shut off, but he can practically _feel_ the animosity and agitation wafting its way through the space between them.

“Has it calculated a course yet?” Ben asks, turning the _Falcon_ around, listening to the sounds of Finn firing the gun.

“Not yet,” Rey says. 

“If we have any missiles, see if they can lock onto that Death Gang ship,” Ben instructs, as red light flies just over their heads. “Otherwise--”

Two missiles fly out from the _Falcon’s_ missile tubes, but rather than latch onto the Death Gang ship, they hit the freighter, sending debris and shrapnel into the space around them. Ben stares, aghast, ready to admonish Rey for wasting ammunition, when--

A blast door careens through space, and hits the Death Gang ship, sending it spinning out of control.

Wide-eyed, Ben turns to Rey.

She’s smiling, quite pleased with herself.

“Worth a shot,” she says, repeating the Gang member’s earlier words.

The navigational computer begins whirring, and they look down, as the star chart unfolds, illuminating a route, deep space and clear skies waiting for them.

“We’re about to make the jump,” Rey yells to Finn, who calls back a confirmation. She turns to Ben, eyes shining.

“Let’s go,” she says.

He smiles back.

They make the jump.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This work is done, I'm just posting probably every other day to make sure it makes sense, and all.
> 
> Story and chapter titles from "The Impossible Dream".
> 
> Each chapter gets longer because I guess I was having fun, or something!
> 
> My timeline is a little wonky (Ben is younger here than in TFA) but who cares. it's an AU.
> 
> Chapter POVs switch between Ben and Rey (Ben is odds, Rey is evens).


	2. To dream the impossible dream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The sun will keep you safe.

_The sun will keep you safe._

She doesn’t know where she heard the words.

All she knows is that they are the words she first remembers hearing. She knows this is, most likely, not true; and sometimes, she thinks she can hear other words, from other ghosts, but trying to cling to those words is impossible. So she clings to these words, and tries to make sense of them.

She’s waiting for someone; she knows that much.

Because she’s alone, so alone, and always has been. She spends her days waiting on Jakku, toiling under the irrepressible desert sun, sitting outside her old AT-AT Walker and watching the ships fly overhead, and dreaming that on one of those ships is the family she is waiting for. That they’ll find her, apologies on their tongues, with reasonable explanations for their abandonment.

The explanations don’t actually matter that much. She will accept whoever comes for her, no matter what.

And then there was BB-8, a droid trying to find its way home, and that was a quest she could understand. She was eager to help anyone realize it, to return to their family, and so she resolved to get BB-8 to where he needed to go. And then there was Finn, BB-8’s last connection to his dead master, and they both needed her, they needed a pilot, and that was a role she could fill.

She can fly, very well; but she doesn’t know how she’s able to do it.

She just _can._

_“The sun will keep you safe.”_

_Who are you?_ She wonders, and never gets an answer.

The words definitely do not come from her. She has never once looked up at the sun of Jakku, and felt safe standing under it. It was a brutal reminder of her stasis, of the fact that nothing ever changed on the desert planet, the simple truth that she most likely was going to die under its oppressive light. The unavoidable truth being that she has very nearly died under it already, more than once.

She digs through her memories, shuffling through brief flashes, but finds nothing solid. Everything is too vague, too dusty, swallowed up by the dirt of Jakku, the very thing that has almost inhaled her, so many times.

No matter. 

She will get BB-8 and Finn back to the Resistance.

And then Rey will go back to Jakku.

And wait.

* * *

She wanders the ship.

No, not the ship: the _Millennium Falcon._

Leaving Finn to confer with the mysterious Ben outside the cockpit, Rey makes her way through the halls, studying the old and water-stained walls, frowning at the uneven floor. She peers in the maintenance crawlway, frowning at the sight of spider webs. She checks the storage and repair bay, opening the lockers and finding them completely empty. The cargo lift in the next room is covered in patches of rust, and she wonders if it’s still functional, and makes a note to check when they land. Last, she finds her way back through the ship, stepping into the bunk room.

All the beds are covered in a fine layer of dust, but she’s so tired, and so interested in actually lying down in a real _bed,_ that she’s ready to ignore that fact.

A small blemish on the wall next to one of the bunks catches her eye, and she bends, distracted for the moment.

Scratched into the wall, marks made by a determined and inexperienced screwdriver-wielder, are the words, B.O.S. WAS HERE. Right underneath those words is, B.O.S. W, and then a half-made mark, like the writer had been interrupted before they could finish.

She frowns, reaching out to brush her fingers over the marks.

“Rey?”

She jumps, hitting her head on the bottom of the bunk above. She growls an old Huttese swear, getting up, rubbing the top of her head.

Ben stands in the doorway, next to the transparisteel viewport, the lights of the stars they’re speeding past dancing over his angular face. Dark circles line his eyes, giving his pale skin a sallow look above the dark beard carving his mouth. She’s not sure she’s ever seen a more quietly sad person; and that’s saying a lot, from a scavenger from Jakku.

“Sorry,” she mutters, though she isn’t sure what she’s apologizing for. This ship isn’t even his. 

Ben steps further into the room, looking around like she had.

“What do you think?”

“It’s amazing,” she says, smiling, her clear delight leaving Ben dumbfounded, going by the surprise in his dark eyes. She guesses that’s understandable. Even if it _is_ the _Millennium Falcon,_ the ship is still very old, a veritable mess, and Rey herself had just recently referred to it as garbage.

But before Ben can say anything, she throws herself down on the lower bunk, sending a cloud of dust into the air.

He wrinkles his nose, but Rey’s smile only widens, and she feels light and airy, and speaks before he can say something to ruin her good mood.

“I’ve never been in a bed before.”

The connotation and context of her words, in any other scenario, coming from just about anyone else, would create an entirely different meaning, and she realizes this immediately after she says them. But she’s covered in a light layer of dust, smiling hugely, adjusting her legs and arms to sink more fully into the thin mattress, and she knows she isn’t creating an alluring picture at all.

Ben blinks at her.

“What did you sleep in, on Jakku?” he wonders.

“Hammock,” Rey replies. “Oh; this bed doesn’t move!”

She is definitely disproportionately delighted over this fact, but she just doesn’t care. Luxury is not a thing Rey is accustomed to. Ben lets her flounce around for a moment before speaking.

“After you get BB-8 to the Resistance… What will you do? Will you join them?”

She looks at him. “No. I have to go back to Jakku.”

He stares. “What’s on Jakku?”

Rey’s lips twist, but her eyes turn hard. Finn had asked the same thing, and she gives Ben the same answer.

“Nothing to concern yourself with,” she snaps, and he nods, raising his hands in a gesture of surrender.

“All right,” he says. “I was just asking in order to make future plans. I’m going to stick around Takodana long enough to make sure BB-8 and Finn get back to the Resistance. Once that’s done, I’m taking off. I can give you a ride back to Jakku, if that’s where you really want to go.”

She frowns, bewildered. “Where else would I go?”

“Well…” Ben pauses, but pushes on: “I was thinking about hiring someone.”

She thinks he sounds almost surprised, like he hadn’t anticipated saying the words until they’d come out. His dark eyes have widened almost comically, yet he doesn’t move to take the words back, to take the implied _offer_ back, and for a moment, they only stare at each other. She can’t imagine what he sees in her, what she thinks she could bring to his work. Speaking of which… 

“What do you do?” Rey asks, and he laughs, though he’s the one who’s neglected to share this information.

“I’m an independent cargo hauler, more or less,” he says. “I ferry cargo between systems and ports, for a variety of clients. Small things, mostly, or things that need to get to where they’re going as soon as possible. I’m not part of a bigger trade company, so I can move very quickly. But when I have spare time, I… Well, I gather supplies for the Resistance.”

“Gather supplies,” Rey repeats, dubiously.

“If I admit I steal weapons and rations for the Resistance, will you turn me in?”

“Of course not,” she says, huffing a laugh. “But you said you weren’t part of the Resistance.”

“I’m not,” Ben says, forcefully. “I do it anonymously. I have a couple drop-off points, and a few contacts within the Resistance. They get the supplies, but they don’t know who they’re from.”

Rey blinks. 

She understands why someone affiliated with the First Order would neglect to reveal themselves to the Resistance, but BB-8 clearly trusts Ben, amplified by the fact BB-8 believes Ben is someone who can get the map back to the Resistance.

“Does BB-8 know you do this?” she asks. “Is that why he trusts you?”

Ben scoffs. “No. No one does.”

“Then why not tell the Resistance?”

He smiles, and repeats her earlier words: “Nothing to concern yourself with.”

She acknowledges his point with a nod. If she presses him on this, he’d press her, and neither of them want that. She turns back to the topic at hand.

“It’s a kind offer,” Rey says. “But I have to get back to Jakku. I’ve been away too long as it is.”

Ben nods, unsurprised.

“And that’s fine,” he says. “But, you know: think about it. You flew the _Falcon,_ so I know you’re a brilliant pilot, and that move back there with the missiles proves you’ve also got good instincts. And Finn told me about how you patched the propulsion tank before the ship could flood with poisonous gas; so you’re a calm hand under immense pressure. I’d be glad to work with you.”

Rey stares.

She can’t remember the last time anyone complimented her.

Ben shrugs. “We’ve got some time, I think.”

“Okay,” Rey agrees, and smiles.

Ben smiles back, and there is something small and sad in that single movement. 

“Let’s go find your friend,” he says, and she gets up.

* * *

Finn is sitting at the hologram board, bent in half, apparently in the middle of a heated argument with BB-8, who’s shuffling back and forth impatiently. Both man and droid quiet when Ben and Rey appear, Finn’s face splitting in an even grin at the sight of her, a move she mirrors, taking a seat next to him on the lounge seat.

“What were you talking about?” Ben wonders, eyeing the droid.

“Poe Dameron,” Finn says.

Rey looks at BB-8, catching the way the droid seems to wilt, and feels her heart ache.

The loss of family; she knows that isn’t the kind of thing you really recover from.

“Poe,” Ben repeats. “What about Poe?”

“I was curious,” Finn says, shrugging. “I didn’t have a lot of time with him, but he seemed… I don’t know. Like someone I wanted to get to know.”

“That’s a good description of Poe,” Ben says.

Rey sits next to Finn, resting her hands in her lap. “Did you know him?”

“Yes,” Ben admits. “We, uh, grew up together. Sort of. Poe’s a few years older than me, but our parents were all fairly good friends, having fought together in the Civil War. So Poe and I would see each other every now and then.”

“Your parents fought in the war?” Rey asks.

“They did,” Ben confirms, voice soft.

Rey frowns, studying Ben more closely. He’s wearing a dark jacket, light shirt, dark pants, and boots, a DL-44 blaster hanging loosely from his belt. He looks like any other spacer that she’s spotted at Niima Outpost. But knowing BB-8 trusts him, knowing his parents were in the war, knowing he helps the Resistance without acknowledgment… 

She doesn’t understand him at all, she decides.

“I’m sorry to hear about Poe,” Ben says, leaning against the wall, and Rey glances at Finn, who nods, and looks at the floor. BB-8 offers a somber _beep._

“He was a good man,” Ben continues. “Kind, and brave. The… The Resistance has lost a great hero.”

He takes a seat at the technical station on the side of the room. Rey can’t help but fixate on just how _tall_ he is; she’s seen plenty of tall people, and even taller aliens, on Jakku, but the big, open desert helped to minimize them. Here, in this cramped freighter, Ben looks out of place.

“We can try to memorialize Poe,” Rey says, speaking firmly to both men and droid. “By getting his droid back to the Resistance.”

It’s a very small, very pathetic kind of eulogy, but that will have to be enough.

“Yeah,” Finn agrees. “We can do that. Poe, he was… He was a hero. He went up against Kylo Ren. I’ve never seen anyone do that before.”

“He did what.”

Finn stills at the frigidity in Ben’s voice, while Rey straightens, tensing her back, looking at Ben with wary eyes. Ben maintains his distance across the room from them, but his fists are tight at his sides, and he’s staring straight at Finn.

“Kylo Ren,” Ben prods.

“Er, yeah,” Finn says, slowly. “You’ve heard of him, right?”

“Yes.”

“Who’s Kylo Ren?” Rey asks, bewildered. 

A change has come over Ben. He’s unexpectedly tense, his face hard, but whereas these signs would indicate anger, she doesn’t think he’s actually angry. If anything, he seems… Frightened.

“Kylo Ren’s a commander on the _Finalizer,”_ Finn explains. “He was on Jakku. He took Poe. Poe tried to fight him, but he… He’s powerful.”

“I know,” Ben murmurs, and Rey wonders exactly what _powerful_ might mean. “So it’s Kylo Ren who’s chasing BB-8?”

Finn shrugs. “The First Order definitely is, so… I guess?”

Ben nods, looking down at the floor, arms crossed over his chest. It is the first time he has appeared as anything but confident and droll, and Rey finds herself much more concerned over who this man might be than the one who’d stormed the ship and demanded they turn it over to him. Anger, and fighting: she can handle that. Fear, and apprehension: she’s not sure about that.

She frowns, leaning forward. 

“Why are you--”

She breaks off, as she’s leaned too far and hit a button on the side of the hologram board, causing the board to illuminate, a dozen hologram monsters and creatures appearing on its surface. Finn jumps back, startled, nearly falling off the lounge bench, while Rey beams.

“I’ve heard of this,” she says, fingers reaching for the hologram creatures and passing through them. “It’s a game, right?”

She’s seen wayward travelers in Niima Outpost playing such a game, but they’d used physical figures to play; not holograms. The creatures here are practically _ancient,_ the holograms very much out of date, spazzing and blinking sporadically, occasionally fizzling out of existence.

“Dejarik,” Ben confirms. He grabs a stool from under the mechanical station and brings it over to the board, sitting across from Rey and Finn, the latter having pulled himself together.

Rey watches the creatures shift and change, making small roaring noises, and her grin increases.

Rey is someone who has not only never _had_ much, but who has never even _seen_ much. She’s a scavenger, meaning her actual possessions are cheap at best, totally useless at worst. And she’s never left Jakku before, which also makes this her first hyperspace flight. Rey still doesn’t know all of Finn’s story, but there’s no denying the wonder in his eyes as he surveys the board; he is not accustomed to as simple a pleasure as a game of dejarik, like her.

And she definitely knows next to nothing about Ben, but he’s watching both her and Finn with a thin, somber smile, and he doesn’t move to make fun of their obvious wonder.

“Rey, scoot back a bit,” he says, and she does, leaving a gap between her and Finn. Ben reaches forward, resetting the game, the holomonsters stilling in the center of the board. “First thing: you pick your team.”

“Team?” Rey repeats.

“Yeah,” Ben says. “You each pick a team of monsters, and then you battle each other. The goal is to kill the other player’s team before they can kill your own. Rey, since your hair is longer, you get to make the first pick.”

“What kind of rule is that?” Finn demands, as Rey surveys the holomonsters thoughtfully.

“Probably a made-up one,” Ben murmurs, and he looks a little confused, like he’s never fully considered how weird or stupid it is until this moment. “But that’s how I know how to play, and I guess I’m the teacher here. And you need a teacher.”

“You’re not playing?” Rey asks, distracted.

Ben smiles, but it’s closer to a grimace.

“No,” he murmurs. “I’ll help you both, but I won’t fight.”

She remembers their earlier conversation, his comments on working for the Resistance while not letting them know, and she wonders if this is him reminding her, if this is him trying to explain himself further, though hinted pacificity.

She can understand that; that need in not getting involved, in living your life.

_The sun will keep you safe._

It’s the only thing she has to guide her, and she will follow it, despite its oddity. She will return to where she can be safe.

She picks the Mantellian Savrip.

* * *

Finn wins the game.

Rey puts up a good fight, but it’s clear she favors brawn and aggression over any solid strategy, having grown up on Jakku where brawn and aggression is the kind of thing that keeps you alive, and Finn hones in on this. He has a good eye for campaigning and tactical maneuvers, and Rey can’t help but be impressed. The Resistance must love him.

Both Rey and Finn throw themselves into the game, taking Ben’s advice along with his repeated assurances that it doesn’t matter to him who wins, he’s helping them both out equally. Finn startles when Rey’s Houjix takes out his Monnok, in a pretty athletic maneuver that involves arms flying off the hologram board, causing Rey to laugh with joy, and Finn’s surprised expression turning into disbelief.

“It’s _on,”_ he insists, and she laughs harder.

Even Ben laughs with them.

She guesses that he’s a good five or so years older than them, but in this moment, he looks like he’s their age, letting himself be overwhelmed by their cackles and petty squabbles. It’s all done in good fun, with Rey and Finn smiling warmly at the other, lacking any form of animosity. 

Rey is someone who has never had any recreational time, but she’s seen the handful of establishments in Niima Outpost with the gamblers and voyagers squabbling over card games, playing solely for gambling and not sheer amusement. She hadn’t even considered ever playing for _fun_ before, had not imagined a scenario where such a thing would be possible for her.

Yet here she is, sitting with two strange men with very different backgrounds from her, and normally, she’d be fighting to get away, desperate ro run back into the desert. But there is a camaraderie between the three of them, and she can’t help but feel somewhat _safe,_ despite all evidence to the contrary.

Their game is interrupted by the ship beeping at them.

“Coming up on Takodana,” Ben says, in explanation to Finn and Rey, and they scramble up after him, BB-8 following them all to the cockpit.

He returns to the pilot’s seat, with Rey at his side in the co-pilot’s seat, Finn perched behind her.

“What’s Takodana like?” Rey asks.

She’s never heard of it before, but that doesn’t really mean anything. She’s heard of only a handful of planets and systems, the most famous ones, the ones where great battles have been fought. Ben insists Takodana is a safe harbor, and she expects this means it’s kept under the radar.

“Um, pleasant,” Ben replies, checking over the navigational chart. “Temperate. Seas. Plains. Forests.”

He sounds like a robot.

She decides not to call him out on it.

“Why Takodana?” Finn asks, the next logical question.

“It’s got an open port that’s welcoming to anyone,” Ben says. “Even if you’ve got a bounty on your head--which you two almost certainly do--” Finn and Rey exchange a look, but don’t disagree “--Maz’s place is still open to you. For one night. After that, you’ll have to move on. But it’s late afternoon on Takodana, and the Resistance should be able to send someone within one standard day. You’ll be fine.”

Finn looks doubtful, while Rey simply nods.

She can only hope Ben is right.

“Dropping out,” Ben says.

They drop out of hyperspace, the blue and green planet spread out below. Rey freezes, and she feels Ben shooting her a look, but her eyes are fixed on the planet before her. He guides them down, breaking through the atmosphere, gliding over lakes and valleys, everything lush and fresh and clear.

Rey stares.

“I didn’t know there was this much green in the whole galaxy,” she breathes.

She’s never seen anything like this before. Everything is _rich,_ and _growing,_ and she can practically taste the clean air, can feel her lungs expanding with it, trying to get as much in as they can. The planet looks like a dream, like what she’s imagined expensive and ornate Core Worlds art to look like. 

Takodana looks like everything Jakku kills.

Ben stares at her. He glances behind her, exchanging a wide-eyed look with Finn. They don’t say anything, and she ignores them.

The _Falcon_ lands on a soft dirt space next to a beautiful blue lake, and not a moment passes before Rey is out of her seat, darting out of the cockpit, her boots thudding away towards the entry ramp door. She fumbles for the switch, and the entry door opens with a hiss, and she runs down the ramp.

She moves to the lakeshore, shaking her shoes off as she goes, leaving them messily deposited on the soft brown dirt. Only then does she slow, standing at the water’s edge. Small thudding noises make her turn, to see BB-8 rolling behind her, joining her at the lakeshore.

“We haven’t had a chance to talk recently,” Rey says, “But, I have to check; do you trust Ben to help get you back to the Resistance?”

 _Oh, yes,_ the droid beeps. _He won’t let the First Order get me._

Rey frowns, but she can’t find any uncertainty in the droid’s matter-of-fact beeps.

 _Are you going in?_ BB-8 asks.

“Can I?” Rey wonders. She turns away, looking back at the sparkling clear water. 

_Why couldn’t you?_

“Doesn’t this water belong to someone?” Rey asks. “I can’t just go in it.”

 _It’s a lake,_ BB-8 says. _You can swim in it._

“I can’t swim.”

 _Then don’t go in very far,_ BB-8 replies. _I’ll watch over you._

She laughs, but doesn’t argue. With a deep breath, she walks into the water.

It’s very cold, colder than she expected, and she gasps a little at the feeling. But she walks, her toes sinking into thick mud under the surface. She keeps her eyes down, studying the way the water ripples around her bare ankles.

This is the first time she’s ever walked in water, ever felt such cool, clean water around her. Water is a precious resource on Jakku; whoever controls the water controls the rest of society. Plutt had owned all the water reserves near Niima Outpost, and Rey had never wasted a single drop. Walking in pure water now without paying for it feels like sacrilege. She feels very rich indeed.

The next thing she knows, she’s laughing, twirling around in the water, letting it splatter against her thin leggings. She bends, sticking her hands in the water, watching in awe as the dirt and grime that have always coated her nails and palms is slowly stripped away. She scrubs furiously, staring as her skin seems to change _color,_ becoming paler. When she straightens, her hands gleam in the sunlight, startlingly clean, cleaner than they’ve ever been.

Before she can throw her entire body into the lake, she hears footsteps. She turns around to see Finn and Ben making their way towards her.

“It’s wonderful here,” she says, and Finn laughs, while Ben smiles.

Reluctantly, Rey leaves the lake, shaking the water off her feet as best she can. BB-8 rolls to perch beside her, opening an exhaust vent in his side and sending warm air over her toes.

“Thanks,” Rey says, offering the droid another warm smile, and BB-8 practically swoons.

When Rey looks up again, it’s to see Ben holding his arm out, a small NN-14 pistol in his hand.

“What’s this?” Rey asks.

“For you,” Ben replies. “Remember me telling you that Maz’s place welcomes people with bounties on their heads? Unlike you and Finn, those people are _actual_ violent, wanted criminals.”

Rey eyes the blaster, thinking of her staff back in the ship. “I think I can handle myself.”

“I believe you,” Ben says, calmly. “Consider it a last resort.” When Rey continues to hesitate, he sighs, and adds, “For my peace of mind.”

She guesses she can do that.

A staff would probably be too noticeable, anyway, and she’s gathering that subtlety is their aim here.

She nods, taking the blaster pistol from him, abruptly lifting it, pointing it towards the other side of the lake.

Ben frowns. “You, uh… Know how to use that?”

“Sure. Point and pull the trigger.”

“You’re not wrong,” Ben says, slowly, glancing at Finn, whose expression is torn between amusement and exasperation. “But it’s more of a squeeze than a pull. And don’t forget the safety.”

As he speaks, he reaches out, brushing his fingers over the safety, and then the trigger. Doing so causes the tips of his fingers to brush Rey’s, and she jerks, and he takes a quick step back. 

Her hands are still cold from the frigid lake water, but Ben’s had been warm, slightly dirty with grease and oil, and it’d startled her. Human contact does not often come to her on Jakku; whenever it does, it’s unwelcome.

“Sorry,” he mumbles, and Rey nods, refusing to meet his eyes.

That hadn’t exactly been unwelcome, but definitely surprising.

“Maz’s place is that way,” he says, gesturing down a beaten path. This is fairly unnecessary, because Maz’s castle is enormous, and the only obvious structure in sight, adorned with flags of every color, organization, and nation. Rey and Finn look at it as he speaks. “We’ll have to take BB-8 with us. He’ll be safer that way.”

BB-8 beeps an agreement.

“But we can still safeguard the _Falcon,”_ Ben says, turning away, and going to the entry ramp. Rey and Finn follow him automatically, and Rey catches Ben’s smile at their movements, how clearly they’re thinking of him as the leader here. They watch as he presses a round gadget to the underside of the ramp, out of obvious sight. It emits a soft hum as he does.

“What’s that?” Finn asks.

“Primitive alarm system,” Ben replies. “It’ll let me know if anyone tries to get into the ship. Maz is the only person here I trust, and I recommend you do the same.”

Rey swallows, and nods.

“Let’s go,” Ben says, and leads them down the path.

“Who’s Maz?” Finn asks, him and Rey walking behind Ben, BB-8 bringing up the rear.

“Maz Kanata,” Ben replies. “She’s a pirate; well, a pirate queen, if you want to get on her good side, which you most definitely want to. She’s run this place for a thousand years, give or take a century or two. She knows virtually every traveler in the galaxy, and she’s got a memory like a navigation computer; she never forgets a face. Another reason to want to stay on her good side. But she’s a friend to the Resistance. She’ll help.”

“You know her, then?” Rey surmises.

“I’ve been here before,” he murmurs, and doesn’t add anything else.

They reach the castle, and walk through the courtyard. The flags and tapestries are even more overwhelming up close, and Rey stares at them in wonder. She recognizes a few, including flags for the Rebel Alliance, Hutts clans, a few podracers’ flags, smuggling syndicates, and a flag with a symbol she thinks she’s seen on a bounty hunter at Niima Outpost.

“Maz is… a character,” Ben says, unexpectedly, and she looks at him. “Be polite, and don’t stare.”

“At what?” Finn asks, startled.

Ben pauses, and turns on the spot, looking down at her and Finn.

He’s tense again, all that friendliness at teaching dejarik and his small smile while watching Rey at the lake entirely gone. His eyes are dark, shadowed, and Rey thinks of how _tired_ he looks, and she’s reminded that she knows absolutely nothing about this man, save for the fact he’s a cargo hauler who anonymously helps the Resistance, and someone BB-8 trusts with the information his own master died to attain.

She has no idea why BB-8 thinks this unknown man, who’d introduced himself only as Ben, would do such a brave and dangerous thing, when he seems to be going out of his way to be completely unremarkable.

“Any of it,” Ben says, answering Finn’s question. “And stay close to me.”

With that, he pushes the door of the castle open.

The place is practically shaking with music, a group of musicians playing some strange Outer Rim tune. No one is dancing, but games of all kinds are being played, and Rey easily recognizes the dejarik game two Twi’leks are playing with actual figures, and not a hologram board, like people would on Jakku. She jumps out of the way of a droid carrying a tray full of brightly-colored drinks oddly spitting sparks into the air, with Finn staring after them with interest. Groups of weary travelers are conversing in corners, squashed around old wooden tables, while gamblers and smugglers and con artists practically line the walls, trading factoids and gossip like old friends. The air is thick with the smell of cigarettes from just about every system, hookah pipes emitting plumes of purples, blues, and yellows popping up every few feet, and a group of Sullustans are forcing everyone to keep a good table-length away from the acrid incense wafting off their table.

She takes a step closer to Ben, Finn doing the same.

Ben keeps his eyes moving, shoulders hunched, and she thinks he’s trying to appear unexceptional and middling; he’s taller than most humans, and quite a few species, so she expects this is difficult for him. He scans the crowd, suddenly stilling; Rey follows his line of sight, spotting a small, orange-skinned humanoid female eyeing him from her perch at a crowded counter.

She doesn’t yell his name, and announce him to the whole castle, a thing Rey is grateful for.

Instead, the woman makes her way through the crowd, which seems to part for her. Rey watches the woman approach them, adjusting the almost comically huge goggles on her head as she moves. She stops in front of them, putting her hands on her hips, staring up at the man who towers over her, and Rey thinks she knows why Ben warned them not to stare at her.

Surprisingly, the woman turns to Rey, eyes widening even more, and Rey feels the hairs on the back of her neck prickle.

But the woman doesn’t address her. She turns back to Ben.

“Ben,” Maz Kanata says. “It’s been a while.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This isn't super relevant, but for those keeping score at home, I'm picturing this version of Ben to look like Adam Driver circa BLACK KKKLANSMAN. (A great, GREAT movie. one of my top 10 of the 2010s.)


	3. To be willing to give when there's no more to give

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Ben,” Han Solo whispers.

Maz sits them at a table away from the action, towards the kitchens. She disappears for a minute, returning with a tray laden with food, fresh fruits and ripe vegetables, all things Ben can easily name and opine about. But he sits back, watching as Rey doesn’t waste a second before seizing a Jogan fruit and biting into it, while Finn follows her lead more slowly. Ben waits for Maz to bring over a tray of dark-colored drinks.

He takes a glass and smells it, turning a scowl on Maz.

“You think you’re very funny, don’t you?”

“I’m only being a good hostess,” Maz says, dismissively, raising her glass of Corellian spiced ale to brush against his. Finn and Rey follow suit, Rey staring warily at her glass, Finn looking more comfortable. “Cheers.”

“Chakta sai kae,” Ben says, automatically, and Maz beams.

 _“Now_ who thinks he’s very funny?”

Ben sighs, and takes a drink. Maz lets it go.

Out of the corner of his eye, he watches Rey sniff the drink before setting it down, untouched.

“I assume you have not come to my little neck of the galaxy for my pleasant company,” Maz says. “What’s brought you here, child?”

He thinks about reminding her he’s definitely not a child, but imagines that once you reach a thousand years of age, just about everyone seems like a child.

“The droid,” he says, gesturing to BB-8, tucked under the table. Maz’s eyes flicker down. “He’s got something the Resistance is looking for.”

“Like what?”

If Ben knows one thing for sure: it’s that there is no lying to Maz Kanata.

“A map,” he says. “To Luke Skywalker.”

Maz throws her head back and _laughs._

She does not have a soft, or quiet laugh; her laugh is practically a cackle, correctly corresponding to her larger-than-life personality. The noise makes Rey jump and Finn stare, and causes half the room to turn around and look at her. Ben feels his face redden, and slouches as far into his seat as he can without looking childish.

“Why not,” Maz comments, coming down from her laughter. “I thought this news might delight you; instead, you look upset.” Ben glances away for a moment, and Maz’s voice softens: “What’s the problem, Ben?”

Ben sighs. “I need you to get the droid to the Resistance.”

Maz stares at him.

He stares back.

“Hm,” she says. “No.”

_“No?”_

_“You_ can get this droid to the Resistance,” Maz says.

“I really can’t.”

“You mean you _won’t.”_

Ben eyes her. “Can you blame me?”

“Yes,” Maz says, and he supposes he ran into that one. Before he can say anything else, she reaches forward, putting her smaller hand over his. 

“Ben; go _home.”_

“I don’t have one,” he snaps, aware of Finn and Rey’s intrigued eyes on him, and Maz’s patient, yet somehow still condescending, face.

“Don’t play dumb, boy,” she says. “You know home is not simply a place. You act like there is no one out there waiting for you, or looking for you--”

“I’m very aware there are, actually,” Ben hisses. _Run, run, run._ “That’s exactly the problem!”

Maz studies him. “It is the _opposite_ of a problem, child.”

He looks away. “So you won’t get the droid back to the Resistance?”

“Not while it has a perfectly capable ride right here.” She pauses, and adds, “What are you flying these days?”

“Something reliable.”

He must not be able to hide his satisfied smirk as well as he should have, because Maz adjusts her goggles, leaning forward slightly, studying his face. She gasps.

“You found the _Falcon?”_

“Not me,” he admits, and nods at Finn and Rey. “They did.”

Maz’s intense gaze slides to them, and Ben’s smirk deepens at the way they both straighten.

Her eyes widen.

“Look how _bright_ they are, Ben.”

“I know,” he murmurs.

“Where in the Great Galactic Core did you find them?”

“Far from the core,” Ben says. “Jakku.”

Maz frowns at this, something he can’t blame her for. It is remarkable that people as noticeably bright as Finn and Rey could have come from Jakku, of all places. Well, Rey, that is; he’s still not sure where Finn came from.

“What do you mean, bright?” Finn asks, a trace of animosity in his tone.

Maz turns to Ben. “What have you told these children?”

“All that they need to know.”

“Doubtful,” Maz says. Abruptly, she gets up, crawling on hands and knees over the table, knocking cups and plates to the floor. Finn leans back, while Rey slowly stops eating, staring at Maz.

“What are you doing?” Finn demands, as Maz approaches him. “Ben, what’s she doing?”

“Just let it happen,” Ben advises.

“If you live long enough,” Maz breathes, adjusting her goggles again, narrowing her gaze to Finn’s face, getting up close and personal. “You see the same eyes in different people. And you… You have the eyes of someone who wants to run.”

This lines up with what Ben had gathered about Finn, and so he isn’t surprised.

Rey, however, is.

She watches Finn, eyes wide.

“You don’t know a thing about me,” Finn snaps.

“I know your eyes look like Ben’s,” Maz says, and Ben stiffens. “But his did not always look this way. And yours do not have to always look this way.”

Finn ignores this, turning to Ben. “Does that offer still stand? Saleucami?”

* * *

_The_ Falcon _lands on a soft dirt space next to Nymeve Lake, and not a moment passes before Rey is out of her seat, darting out of the cockpit, her boots thudding away towards the entry ramp door. A hiss tells them she’s opened it._

_Ben and Finn sit, and look out the front transparisteel window, watching Rey run towards the lake, standing at the edge, taking it in._

_“She’s so happy,” Ben murmurs._

_“Yeah,” Finn agrees, voice just as soft._

_They watch Rey in the sunlight for a moment more, and then Ben gets up, moving back in the ship. To his surprise, Finn follows him._

_“Uh, Ben? There’s something I gotta talk to you about…”_

_“I’m listening,” Ben says._

_He walks back to the bunk rooms, and picks up the bag he’d brought with him from the freighter, aware of Finn practically breathing down his neck. He goes through it, pulling out a small NN-14 blaster pistol, and an EL-16 blaster. The EL-16 is outdated, and dented in places, but it’ll do._

_“Um…” Finn pauses. “Let’s just say I’m not. Strictly. Uh. With the Resistance.”_

_Ben snorts a laugh. “I know.”_

_“What?! How?”_

_“BB-8 doesn’t trust you,” Ben replies. “He keeps his distance from you. And you were so surprised to hear about Han Solo; if you were with the Resistance, he’d practically be old news to you.”_

_Finn considers this, a frown making his face tense._

_“Plus, BB-8 told me,” Ben admits._

_“Okay,” Finn acknowledges. “Yeah. I’m not with the Resistance. We’re on the same page. But I’m not with the First Order, either. I’m just… I’m just a guy who wants to be free. I don’t want any part of this.”_

_Ben raises an eyebrow, finally giving Finn his full attention._

_It’s not often he runs into someone who shares his opinion._

_He looks at Finn, taking in his intensity, that determination glinting in his eye, and if Ben blinks, he thinks he can see the past._

_“You and me both,” he says, quietly, and Finn studies him. “Look, I… I already extended this invitation to Rey, so I’ll offer it to you, too; I’m thinking of hiring help; people to work with me. I have a job lined up on Saleucami, to ferry medicines to Mygeeto; I’m headed to that next. Interested?”_

_Finn considers it. “Saleucami, Mygeeto; those are in the Outer Rim?”_

_“Yeah. Other side of the galaxy from here.”_

_Finn seems appeased by this, yet still torn, and Ben is sure he knows why._

_“Rey is going to think about it,” he says, and Finn glances at him, and Ben knows he’s guessed right. “You can, too. I’m sticking around long enough to make sure BB-8 gets back to the Resistance. You have until then.”_

_Finn nods. “Yeah. Deal.”_

_Ben smiles, and holds the EL-16 blaster out. Finn takes it, hesitant._

_“You do need to tell Rey, though,” Ben says. “She still thinks you’re Resistance. I don’t think she’s the type to easily forgive someone for lying to her.”_

_“Yeah,” Finn agrees, and he follows Ben out of the ship._

* * *

Ben sighs. “If Maz refuses to get BB-8 to the Resistance, then I have to do it myself. Saleucami might have to wait.”

“Then who can get me away from here today?”

 _“Finn,”_ Rey breathes, shocked. Maz shakes her head.

“Those two, over there,” she says, pointing across the room. “They’ll trade work for passage to the Outer Rim. There, you can disappear.”

Finn nods, getting to his feet. He holds the EL-16 blaster out to Ben, who shakes his head.

“Keep it,” he says. “You’re going to need it.”

Finn nods again, swallowing, before turning to look at Rey. Her expression is aghast, her plate of food forgotten, her hands tightly gripping the arms of her chair with unrestrained anxiety. They look at each other, and then Finn turns, and walks across the room.

Rey stares after him, and then looks at Ben, her eyes huge. Before he can say anything, she’s up, chasing after Finn.

Maz leans forward. “Who’s the girl?”

“Your guess is better than mine.”

“Perhaps,” Maz mutters, returning to her ale. “That girl is the brightest thing I’ve ever seen. Brighter than you.”

“I know,” Ben agrees. “But that isn’t exactly difficult to be now.”

As he speaks, he reaches into his jacket pocket, procuring a handful of credits. He carefully lays them on the table. Maz stares.

“What’s this?”

“For the food and drinks,” Ben replies, a bit confused, as this should be obvious.

“For the girl and boy too?”

Ben nods, slowly, thinking he might be missing something here.

Maz’s smile is wide. She shakes her head, gently pushing the credits back to him. “Don’t be silly. But speaking of being silly: what name are you going by these days?”

“Ben Kanata has a nice ring to it.”

She stares at him, affronted, and he breaks, laughing.

“I’m kidding,” he says. “Vassic. Ben Vassic. It’s a surname I heard on the holonet one day.”

“I suppose all the surnames associated with your family are far too recognizable,” Maz comments, and he can’t disagree; it’s a point he’s well aware of. “I stand by what I said, though. You are perfectly capable of taking that droid back to the Resistance without my assistance.”

“I don’t even know where they are--”

BB-8 trills from below, and Ben sighs, while Maz grins.

“The Ileenium System is not too far from here,” she notes, giving BB-8 an appreciative nod. “Thank you, droid. I do have a guest here who needs a ride back to the Resistance as well--”

“Kriff, Maz, I’m not a taxi service--”

“No, but you are _kind,_ ” Maz interjects, and Ben stills. “Ferrying those two bright children to a safe harbor without expecting payment for it, in fact paying for them to eat, going out of your way to help BB-8 and the Resistance, despite the fact you know this is dangerous for you… No, you are a kind man, Ben Organa-Solo.”

“I don’t go by that name anymore,” he hisses. 

“Perhaps you should,” Maz says, quite calmly. “Perhaps you just need a reminder of who you are, and where you come from.”

He stares at her, trying hard to swallow down the anger and pain threatening to overwhelm him, but Maz looks quite calm, drinking her ale languidly. He turns his gaze down to the table, staring hard at the wooden surface, closing his eyes for a moment.

A voice from his past whispers a reminder: _“Breathe. Just… breathe.”_

“You’re getting better at that,” Maz notes.

“I have to be,” he snaps, opening his eyes.

Maz’s face is surprisingly soft. “I know you do.”

Before he can say anything else to her, something that is probably mean-spirited and will prove that he is not as _kind_ as she seems to think he is, a frantic beeping comes from his pocket. He frowns, fumbling for it, pulling out a circular gadget; its twin is currently pressed to the underside of the _Falcon’s_ entry ramp.

“Stang,” he hisses, and Maz smirks at the Alderaanian swear, but Ben’s already on his feet.

“Maz, can you--”

“The droid will not leave my side,” she assures him. “But come back here once you’re done; I have something for you.” 

He nods once at her, only briefly wondering what it could be, before he breaks into a run, shoving past patrons, all of whom squawk indignantly at him. He ignores this, but he does catch sight of Rey, forlornly staring into space. She seems suddenly to jerk out of it, eyes flying up to see Ben, and the next thing he knows, she’s running behind him, following him out of the castle.

“What’s happening?” she asks, sprinting behind him.

“Someone’s trying to break into the _Falcon,”_ he calls back. “Where’s Finn?”

“Leaving,” she grunts, and he drops the subject.

Ben slows for a moment, enough to turn and look at Rey, pausing them both on the path. “You don’t have to help me with this.”

“I know,” Rey snaps. “But I’m helping.”

“Roger that,” he says, smiling, and for a moment, Rey smiles back at him. “You’ve got that blaster?”

She presses a hand to her hip, where the small NN-14 blaster pistol hangs.

“Good,” Ben says. “Follow my lead. If I tell you to run, you run. Got it?”

“Got it.”

“Let’s roll.”

She runs after him, and they make the trip back to the _Falcon_ much faster than they had away from it. He slows as the ship comes up ahead of them, pulling his DL-44 pistol from its holster, Rey mirroring him with the NN-14 blaster. He holds his other hand out, slowing her down, and the two of them creep around the _Falcon,_ hiding themselves at the line of trees surrounding the back _._ The entry ramp is lowered.

“Great,” he mutters. “Rey, let’s--”

All of the breath is knocked out of him as Rey suddenly moves, seizing a handful of the back of his shirt, and dragging him down into the dirt, dropping next to him. He gasps, the air knocked out of him, getting a faceful of earth, but he freezes as a jet of bright red light flies over them, where his head had been moments before.

He twists his neck, looking at Rey. Her eyes are very wide, and shocked.

“How did you know,” he whispers.

He hadn’t seen or heard anyone, hadn’t noticed any warning that the shot was coming. He’d been entirely caught off-guard, and if it weren’t for Rey sensing the shot before it could even _be_ shot, he’d almost certainly be dead, or at least stunned.

“I don’t know,” Rey breathes, and she looks almost scared.

 _Oh, Rey,_ Ben thinks, filled at once with sorrow and sympathy and regret.

A roar comes from the entry ramp, and it’s Ben’s turn to freeze.

He recognizes it.

“No, _you’re_ stealing _our_ ship!” Rey yells back.

“You understand him?” Ben asks, incredulous.

 _“You_ do?”

“I know him,” Ben says with a sigh. He lifts his head, and yells, “Chewie, it’s me. It’s Ben.”

There’s a pause, and another growl, this one softer: “ _Little one?”_

“Not so little anymore,” Ben mutters, while Rey seems to be fighting down a smirk, even in her confusion. 

He gets up, shaking soil off his clothes, rubbing dirty palms over the front of his pants. He turns to offer Rey a hand, but she’s already up, standing at his side, unconcerned with the dirt and dry mud stuck to the front of her clothes.

Ben looks ahead, takes a breath to try and ground himself, and then steps out of the bushes.

Chewbacca is standing at the end of the entry ramp, bowcaster at the ready. He quickly lowers it upon catching sight of Ben, who swallows, bracing himself as Chewbacca lets loose a roar of pure delight, carelessly throwing the bowcaster over his shoulders, charging towards Ben. He feels Rey grip his sleeve, until she’s easily knocked aside, as the Wookiee reaches Ben, lifting him clean off the ground in an incredibly tight hug.

“Not so little, still breakable,” Ben gasps, and Chewbacca loosens his grip, setting Ben back on the dirt with such tender care it makes Ben’s chest ache. The Wookiee cocks his head, paws reaching up to palm Ben’s face, and he can’t help but smile.

“Hi, Chewie.”

_“Where have you been?”_

“Here and there,” Ben replies.

_“We’ve missed you.”_

“I know,” Ben murmurs. He’s reminded of Rey at his side, practically twitching with uncertainty, and so he nods his head at her. “Chewie, this is Rey. Rey, this is Chewbacca, he’s--”

“My first mate.”

Ben freezes.

Chewbacca steps aside, revealing the man standing behind him, who’d come down the entry ramp of the _Falcon_ amidst all the commotion.

Ben’s first thought is that he’s gotten so _old._

The man before him has completely gray hair, though for his part, it’s still pretty thick. His clothes are battered, but practically the exact same outfit Ben had seen him in the last time he saw him, one that Ben knows he himself has grown to unconsciously mirror. It’s the man’s face that really betrays his age: it’s heavily lined, mouth turned down in a perpetual frown, a thin scar running around near his right ear.

But the eyes are still sharp, and locked on Ben, who feels very exposed.

“Ben,” Han Solo whispers.

Ben nods, swallowing hard. “Hi, Dad.”

Han practically _runs_ from the ramp, and Ben is more prepared to receive this hug. He notes that he’s a little bit taller than Han, and wonders when this might have happened. He presses his nose into Han’s shoulder, smelling grease and oil and _home,_ and his throat feels very tight, and the weight of Chewbacca’s paw on his back nearly undoes him.

It’s clear that Han does not want to let him go, and so Ben has to practically prise his father’s arms from around him. As soon as he does, managing a step back, Han’s hands lift to cradle his face, much like how Chewbacca had moments before.

“Look at that _scruff,”_ Han notes, and Ben feels like Han has no legs to stand on regarding _scruff._ “Your hair’s gotten long, too.”

“Not much longer than yours. And I have to cover those ridiculous ears.”

“Blame your grandfather for that,” Han says, cracking a smile, and Ben can’t help but mirror him. “When did you get so _tall,_ kid?”

“I don’t know,” Ben admits. “When did you get so old?”

Han’s smile turns sad. “We both know the answer to that question.”

That’s fair.

Han turns to Rey, eyebrows rising as he takes her in. “How’d you get mixed up with my wayward son?”

“It’s a long story,” Ben mutters, before Rey can say anything. “Dad, this is Rey. Rey, this is my father… Han Solo.”

Rey’s mouth drops, and she stares at Han in astonishment, before turning to Ben, expression becoming accusatory. “You didn’t say your father was Han Solo!”

“You didn’t ask.”

“You could have said it when you introduced yourself!”

“But why--”

“Or later, after Finn and I talked about Han Solo, you obviously could’ve--”

“Holy beek-monkeys,” Han interrupts, looking far too amused for Ben’s liking. “You two are worse than Leia and me.”

Ben rolls his eyes. “That’s a lie.”

“I guess that explains how you know so much about the _Falcon,”_ Rey comments, and both Han and Chewbacca freeze.

There’s a short pause.

 _“You’ve_ had the _Falcon?”_ Han exclaims, and Chewbacca echoes him with a roar.

“For half a day,” Ben interjects. “Rey found it.”

Han turns back to Rey. “Who had it?”

“Unkar Plutt,” she says, immediately, and Ben wants to groan because there’s clear hero-worship going on here, and Han’s amusement is practically _wafting_ off him. “Who stole it from the Irving Brothers, who stole it from Ducaine.”

“Who stole it from _me,”_ Han says. “Well, now Han Solo’s stealing back the _Millennium Falcon.”_

“From his _son.”_

“Hey, I’ve had this ship longer than you’ve been alive,” Han says, finger pointed at Ben. “As a matter of fact, you were conceived--”

“Please don’t finish that sentence.”

Han smirks, and even Rey looks amused. Ben sighs.

“What are you doing here, Dad?”

“I could ask you the same thing.”

“And I’m sure you will.”

“You’ve got your mother’s snark, I see,” Han says, and Ben gives another exasperated sigh, but it only seems to confirm Han’s words. The older man takes pity on him, running a hand through his gray hair, nose wrinkling. “Well, uh… Chewie and I might have run into some trouble. On a _legitimate_ run, mind you.”

Chewbacca snorts, and Han scowls.

“Okay, _somewhat_ legitimate,” he amends, and Chewbacca allows this. “The point is, we’ve had a couple groups on our backs. We’re here to lay low for a bit.”

“Let me guess,” Ben drawls. “The Guavian Death Gang is one of the groups you’re hiding from.”

“How’d you know?”

“We ran into them,” Rey interjects.

“They picked up the _Falcon,_ huh? That’s what you get for flying it without me.”

“I think that’s what I get for being your son,” Ben notes, and Han’s expression softens.

He throws an arm around his son’s shoulders, a somewhat difficult maneuver, considering Ben’s shoulders are higher than his. But Han bears the awkwardness, and it’s clear he just wants to be close to Ben, and so he doesn’t make a joke about it either.

“C’mon,” Han says. “Buy your old man a drink.”

* * *

They walk back to the castle, with Han walking close to Ben, who allows it. Rey asks questions the whole way, peppering Han and Chewbacca with them, trying to suss out fact from fiction from all the stories and tales she’s heard about them all the way on Jakku. Both man and Wookiee humor her, though Han turns indignant when she offers an incorrect statement on the _Falcon’s_ infamous Kessel Run record, and Chewbacca snorts at the old injury in his voice, and Ben smiles.

He feels suddenly like a child again, like he’s simply listening to one of his father’s newer acquaintances going over Han’s supposed résumé, and at any moment, he’ll look up and see--

He cuts the thought off, blinking quickly, eyes adjusting to the darkness of Maz’s cantina.

The pirate queen is waiting where they’ve left her at the table, and she looks far too smug, and it finally hits Ben.

“You knew he was here?”

“Checked him in last night,” Maz replies, and Han grins, sitting in the chair next to her.

“Some warning might have been nice,” Ben mutters.

Maz shakes her head. “You would have run the other way, child.”

She isn’t wrong, and everyone at the table (save for maybe Rey) know it. They settle down, and Maz unearths two more glasses out of nowhere, and Han grins.

“Corellian spiced ale,” he says, taking a drink. “My favorite.”

Maz shoots Ben a pointed look, which he ignores.

“So,” Han says, breaking the silence, setting his spiced ale down. Rey has returned to her plate of food, and Ben helps himself to a Sweesonberry roll. “What brings you to Takodana, Ben?”

Ben sighs.

He relays the whole story, omitting the details Rey has told him of her background, unsure if she’s okay with that information getting spread around. She doesn’t say anything when he does this, only gives him a thoughtful look, and so he goes on. He talks about catching the _Falcon_ on his scanner, having been casually looking for her specifically (“That’s my boy,” Han says, and Ben can’t help but smile) and finding Rey and Finn, fresh from fleeing the First Order. He talks about running into the Guavian Death Gang, how Finn manned the gun brilliantly while Rey plotted a course to Takodana, and he can’t keep the pride out of his voice, and he wishes Finn was nearby to hear it.

“Did Finn leave?” he asks, pausing in the story to look around.

“Not yet,” Maz replies, and Rey brightens, and Ben smiles at her clear joy at her friend not having left yet.

 _Friend,_ he thinks, _More like her chaos twin._ Causing chaos and mayhem wherever they go.

“Hold the transmission,” Han says, leaning forward, staring hard at Rey. _“You_ flew the _Falcon?”_

Rey bristles. “Yes.”

“Where did you learn to fly?”

Ben had been wondering this too, and so he looks at Rey as she speaks.

“Flight simulations,” she replies, and before Han can ask, she adds, “I’m a scavenger on Jakku. I found a few in the Graveyard of Giants. I’d practice when I could.”

“You’re self-taught?”

“Yes.”

Han glances at Ben, who shrugs. Ben studiously avoids Maz’s gaze, but can practically feel the look she’s sending him.

While it’s possible to learn to pilot with flight simulations, it’s incredibly unlikely that flight simulations alone would have given Rey the knowledge and experience she would have needed to successfully pilot the _Falcon_ around and away from the TIE fighters she and Finn encountered on Jakku. Something else had clearly been at play; and Ben is certain it has to do with the _light_ emanating from Rey.

Seven years ago, he would have known exactly what to do, what to say to Rey, where to tell her to go.

But now is not then.

It’s so much worse.

“So, kid,” Han says, and Ben snaps back to attention. “Where the hell have you been for the last six years?”

Ben tells the truth.

Most of the truth.

He tells his father that he’s working as an independent cargo hauler, that he has contacts with a few organizations across the galaxy, that he gets steady work through these groups. He tells him that he likes this work, that he’s good at it, and that he’s respected for it.

Han’s face grows sadder and sadder the longer Ben talks.

Ben digs his nails into his palms.

Rey and Maz stay silent, listening to Ben speak, glancing occasionally to take in Han’s face; but neither woman moves to interrupt, something Ben (and Han, he’s sure) is grateful for.

He finishes the brief history of the past six years, finishing with the anecdote that he’s fresh off a run to Rakata Prime.

Maz tuts. “Risky.”

“Why is it risky?” Rey wonders.

“Rakata Prime is a safe world for the First Order,” Maz replies. “So for someone like Ben Organa-Solo--” Ben shoots her a dirty look, while Han grins “--To visit it; it is a risky, even _stupid,_ thing indeed.”

“The pay is good,” Ben says.

“That’s true,” Han agrees.

“And it’s not like anyone… high up in the First Order actually goes to Rakata Prime.”

He regrets the words as soon as he says them, because Han’s face abruptly shutters, his eyes turning to the floor, shoulders sagging. Chewbacca reacts similarly, giving an odd twitch, issuing a quiet growl. Ben feels distinctly uncomfortable, though he hasn’t said anything actually wrong. He’s telling the truth; it’s just an uncomfortable truth they all wish they could avoid.

But they can’t.

That’s another truth.

His grim thoughts are interrupted by Rey, who abruptly straightens, a smile growing on her face.

“Finn!” she calls, and Ben turns around.

Sure enough, Finn is making his way back towards their table, and he’s not alone.

Following him is a man in a dirty, tan-colored shirt and similarly grimy pants. The man’s black curls are oddly flat, and his face bears numerous healing cuts and purple-yellow bruises, his lip partially split and in the middle of healing. He looks like he’s gone ten rounds with a rancor. 

But his brown eyes light up when he catches sight of the table, and its occupants.

“Where the hell did you come from, Ben Organa-Solo?” Poe Dameron asks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't think it's too far out of rationality that Poe, without a ride on Jakku, haggles a ride to the closest safe harbor he can think of: Takodana, and Maz Kanata, a friend to the Resistance. Ben had the exact same thought process, for the same reasons that will be explored later.
> 
> If you've read the Cassian Andor Nonsense: Yes, that whole "seeing people as bright" thing is making an appearance here, but in a slightly different way.
> 
> My hot take: Ben's last name should be Organa, because Alderaan was matrilineal, and Han got his last name from some rando Imperial drudge. But in this story it is Organa-Solo for reasons that become obvious shortly.


	4. To be better far than you are

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “What do you know about the Force, Rey?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this chapter title is not grammatically correct; please take it up with [Sinatra](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xoN7_lR1MOw).

Rey likes Han Solo a lot.

He’s surprisingly funny, with a dry sort of humor that can be cutting like a knife. While Ben and Poe embrace like old friends, laughing and making fun of the other’s height  _ (“You got tall!” “You didn’t!”) _ , Han asks Rey more about herself. He seems stunned, and intrigued, at this idea Rey flew the  _ Falcon _ without flying any other ship before.

“She ain’t an easy ship to fly,” Han explains. “The main computer is made up of three separate droid brains, which makes it a bit of a mess. They bicker. Can be hard for even a seasoned pilot to get around.”

Ben had warned her, and she’d noticed it, but hadn’t thought much of it.

“It didn’t really change anything for me,” she admits.

Han studies her. “Have you ever been in a  _ working _ ship before?”

“Once.”

“When was that?”

She frowns.

“When I was a child,” she says. “I’m not… I’m not from Jakku. I remember flying there.”

_ She is high above the sand dunes, flying past that irrepressible sun. _

_ “The sun will keep you safe.” _

“How old were you?” Han wonders.

“Young,” Rey says. 

_ Plutt’s hand is tight around her arm. “Come here, girl.” _

_ “Where are we going?” _

“Hmpf,” Han mutters, studying her. He looks strangely calculating, and she wants to fidget under that sharp gaze. “I only ask because I’ve never heard of anything like that, kiddo. Being able to pilot like that. Well, I guess… It’s been a while.”

“So someone else has done it?”

“Yeah,” Han murmurs, running a hand over his face.

Rey blinks. “Who?”

“Luke.”

_ “Skywalker?” _ When Han doesn’t deny this, she actually laughs. “That’s a kind compliment, but no. I’m nothing like… Like  _ him.” _

“I didn’t say you were,” Han notes, smiling, seemingly amused by her disbelief. “Just saying Luke could fly like that, too.”

She considers this. “Maybe.”

Han takes a sip of his spiced ale, glancing towards the others. Poe is chatting animatedly, Finn at his side, while Chewbacca interjects with a mumbled roar or grunt every now and then. Ben has a soft look on his face that makes him look far younger than she thinks he is, turning him suddenly into a far cry from the angry, sharp man who’d lifted the hatch on the  _ Falcon _ to glare down at her and Finn.

“Rey,” Han says suddenly, and she looks at him. He nods at the others. “That guy treating you all right?”

“Who?”

Han rolls his eyes. “Ben.”

She blinks. “Uh, yeah. I mean. We only met yesterday.”

“Right,” Han says, thoughtfully. “But he’s okay?”

“So far.”

“Good,” Han murmurs. “Glad to hear it.”

She raises an eyebrow. “He’s your son, right? So shouldn’t you already know all of this?”

“Hell, maybe the reason I’m asking is  _ because _ he’s my son,” Han says, the corner of his mouth tilting up in a smirk, and Rey snorts into her water.

“You…” She pauses, the tenderness of Han and Ben’s reunion returning to her. “You haven’t seen each other in a while?”

Her words are hesitant, and awkward, and not really a question. She knows she really doesn’t have any grounds to ask him about this. But she’s curious. She’s never imagined Han Solo to be like this; old, sad, and shocked by the sight of his own son.

“No,” Han says, sounding sorrowful again. “He’s changed a lot. Grown up quite a bit, barely reminds me of the boy he used to be. But you also remind me of someone I used to know.”

“Luke?”

Han pauses.

“Right,” he says. “Luke.”

“You’re friends, aren’t you?” Rey asks. “He fought with the Rebellion, too.”

“Yeah,” Han confirms, voice soft. “I knew him. I knew Luke.”

“Knew?” Rey repeats.

Han runs a hand over his face, and if Rey had thought he looked old; he now looks positively ancient.

“Luke’s been gone a while,” Han murmurs, and Rey stares.

She’d heard of Luke Skywalker, long before BB-8 had revealed the map related to him; of course she has.  _ Everyone _ has. Skywalker is a galactic hero, a cosmic deity. He saved them all, saved their piece of the universe. Rey has heard the legends, told to her in dingy repair shops and grimy bars, from slurring voices laced with alcohol, to high-pitched shrieks of the drugged. Every story had been more fantastic than the last, and Rey had decided that Luke Skywalker could not exist; at least, not as a single man. He had to be more. He had to be ten men. He couldn’t have simply been an unknown boy who became a legend.

To hear that Luke Skywalker has disappeared fits into his mythology. Saviors never linger.

“Why?” Rey asks, and she feels oddly sad for someone who had also thought Luke to be a myth. She briefly wonders if this means she’d actually bought into the tales about him. “Why did he leave?”

“He was training a new generation of Jedi,” Han says, refusing to look at Rey, keeping his gaze locked on his glass of ale. “One boy, one young Knight; turned against him. Destroyed it all. Luke felt responsible, and so he just… Walked away from everything.”

“So, the map--”

“I’m not sure it’s a map that leads to  _ Luke, _ exactly,” Han says, interrupting Rey. “The people who knew him best… We think he went looking for the first Jedi temple. You might have a map leading to that place.” 

“So the Jedi were real?”

“I used to wonder that myself,” Han says. “Magical power, holding the dark and the light together, but… It’s true. All of it.”

He finally looks at her, and Rey is briefly disarmed. Han’s eyes are beseeching; willing her to understand something he’s secretly trying to say.

Before she can say anything else, Poe steps around the table, to stand behind Han’s chair. He winks at Rey who blinks, somewhat flustered, catching Finn’s amused eye. Poe claps a hand on Finn’s shoulder. “Finn, who’s your pretty friend?”

Finn’s cheeks darken when Poe touches him, and Poe’s smile is warm and easy-going, aimed right at Finn, and over Finn’s shoulder, Rey spots Ben rolling his eyes.

“Poe, this is Rey,” Finn says, and Poe grins, holding a hand out to Rey, who takes it. “Rey, this is Poe Dameron.”

“Hello,” Rey says. “BB-8 has been--”

She breaks off as the droid comes rolling out from under the table, beeping excitedly all the way. Poe lets out a yell of delight, sinking down to his knees to greet the droid.

_ “Buddy,”  _ Poe cries. “Boy, am I glad to see you. What happened?”

_ I left the village like you said, _ BB-8 replies, and Poe, Ben, Han, and Rey listen, while Finn frowns, lost.  _ And went out into the desert. Some glitch-head caught me in a net, but Rey got me out! _

Poe looks up, offering Rey a winning smile. “You’re my hero.”

Rey stares, uncertain how to respond to such a statement. No one has ever called her a hero before.

“What are you doing here, Dameron?” Han calls, still seated at the table, and Poe jerks into an awkward salute.

“General Solo, I didn’t see you there--”

“Hell, stop with that nonsense, I’m not Leia,” Han interrupts, and Poe shrugs, but drops the stance. “I didn’t hear you were working out in the Mid Rim. When did you get assigned here?”

Poe’s smile drops, and he looks, suddenly, as old as Han.

“I didn’t,” he murmurs, and Han frowns at the pain and sorrow in Poe’s voice.

Rey hears Finn’s voice in her head:

_ “Poe, he was… He was a hero. He went up against Kylo Ren. I’ve never seen anyone do that before.” _

“Dad,” Ben says, quietly, but everyone turns to look at him. “We’d better go outside.”

Han’s expression darkens in sudden understanding.

He stands.

* * *

They return to the  _ Falcon. _

Everyone that is, save for Maz, who elects to remain in her castle. Chewbacca and Ben carry the blankets Maz had all but thrown on them, not challenging her assumption that the  _ Falcon _ was very poorly stocked for human habitation, while Rey and Finn bear snacks and drinks from the castle kitchen. Han and Poe walk ahead of them, and rather than go inside the  _ Falcon, _ they go to the lake’s edge.

Ben watches them go before turning to Chewbacca.

“Can you take these?” he murmurs, gesturing at the blankets in his arms.

Chewbacca nods, issuing a soft growl:  _ “Are you okay?” _

“Fine,” Ben replies, though Rey is certain he is not. “But I think I need to hear what Poe has to say.”

Chewbacca does not disagree, and accepts the blankets from Ben. He steps away, briefly catching Rey’s inquisitive gaze; but she doesn’t ask, and he doesn’t offer anything. He leaves her _ , _ walking over to stand with Han and Poe.

Rey watches him go until Chewbacca calls to her.

_ “Leave them be,  _ jow.”

“Star?” Rey repeats, distracted for the moment by the surprising endearment.

_ “It is a word that also means ‘sun,’” _ Chewbacca says.

_ (“The sun will keep you safe.”) _

“I’m no sun,” Rey mutters, and Chewbacca roars a laugh.

She follows him into the  _ Falcon. _

Finn is already in the galley, digging through cupboards, and Rey rushes to help. Finn pulls a face at the cobweb he unearths, causing her to laugh, but she offers Finn a towel without comment.

“There’s no way this is the  _ Millennium Falcon,” _ Finn insists.

“I’m surprised too,” Rey admits, turning on the sink. A stream of orange-red water flows out, and she wrinkles her nose. “But if anyone was going to recognize the  _ Millennium Falcon, _ it’d be Han Solo.”

“Hell of a coincidence,” Finn mutters. “Him being here while we are, and all that.”

_ “We ran into some trouble,” _ Chewbacca calls, and both Rey and Finn jump, the latter almost dropping a basket of bread rolls to the floor, and Rey smiles.  _ “On a mostly legitimate run, matter of fact. We needed somewhere to lay low for a bit.” _

“Right,” Finn scowls, looking distinctly unimpressed, while Rey’s grin widens, knowing exactly where he’s going with this. “Trouble meaning the Guavian Death Gang?”

_ “Yes. Sorry you ran into them.” _

“I bet,” Finn mutters.

_ “They must have picked up the  _ Falcon. _ Makes sense.” _

“Clean ship,” Finn hisses in an undertone to Rey, who nods.

_ “We’ll get it cleaned before we go to the Resistance,” _ Chewbacca says.

“Can I help?” Rey asks, perking up.

Chewbacca looks at her, mouth quirking in a Wookiee’s best approximation of a smile.

* * *

Poe eventually makes his way into the  _ Falcon. _ He looks more wan than he’d looked back in Maz’s Castle, but he rallies, offering Finn a winning grin. At Rey and Chewbacca’s waiting looks, he adds, “They’re going to talk for a little bit. Let’s start eating.”

True to Poe’s words, Ben and Han don’t join them for another twenty minutes. Both men look exhausted, like they’d traveled across the galaxy and back in their time spent outside the ship. But upon catching sight of the group sitting in the  _ Falcon, _ eating, talking, and laughing, they shrug the shadows off. Han’s eyes light up, and even Ben dregs up a small smile.

Night has fallen, but the old lights in the  _ Falcon _ offer a friendly glow. Though the sounds of raucous partying and shouting can be heard from Maz’s castle, the woods are dark and quiet, and Rey finds herself more relaxed than she’s ever been.

She thinks it’s because she’s among friends, for the first time in her life. New friends, but still; friends. Finn and Ben, both of whom she’d met under dire circumstances; Finn, who she’d hit with her staff, and Ben, who she’d been ready to threaten with her staff. Plus Poe Dameron, who is just as friendly and warm as Finn had claimed, who’d spent most of dinner staring at Finn and engaging him in conversation. Finn had seemed bewildered by the attention but nonetheless returned it, pink staining his face, and Rey hid her smile under her palm.

And then there’s Han Solo and Chewbacca, walking legends, people Rey has heard about her whole life, men who are exceptionally kind and generous in a way she had never dared to imagine. Chewbacca shows her how to scrub the  _ Falcon _ off other ships’ radars (though there’s a part for the computer that they’re missing and will need to barter with one of Maz’s guests to attain), and Han takes a moment to survey her staff.

“Huh,” he says, twirling it. “You fight with this?”

“If I have to,” Rey replies, and he grins.

There isn’t enough space in the  _ Falcon _ for a proper demonstration, but she tries, showing Han how she holds the staff, hitting people with the end of it. Han seems torn between amusement and something softer, and Rey stops.

“Where are you going after… all this?” Han asks.

“Back to Jakku, of course,” Rey says. She snorts. “You sound like Ben.”

Han frowns. “What do you mean?”

“He also asked what I was doing after we got BB-8 to the Resistance,” Rey says. She glances down the hall, to where Ben is sitting with Finn, Poe, and BB-8; the droid is projecting something in the air before them, and Rey thinks it might be a film of a podrace. “He offered me a job, actually. Working with him.”

For some reason, Han looks deeply amused, a grin spreading across his face. “What did you say?”

She shrugs. “That I’d think about it. But I… I have to get back to Jakku.”

“Why?”

She looks at Han, leaning against the grimy wall of the ship, and that softness is still in his face, and she finds herself doubting her insistence on returning to Jakku for the first time.

But then she remembers that old, driving instinct, the one she’s had for as long as she can remember:

_ Stay on Jakku. Do not leave. _

“My family,” she says, instead. “I’m… I’m waiting for them. They’ll be back for me.”

“You sure about that, kiddo?”

She frowns, studying Han, and realizes the softness in his face is less softness, and more sadness.

“Of course,” Rey murmurs. “I can’t… I have to go back to Jakku. I  _ have _ to.”

Han nods, and steps forward, resting a gentle hand on her shoulder.

“All right, kiddo,” he says. “But, if you change your mind: I’m going to give you the codes to reach the Resistance, and my wife, and my personal channel. Say the word, and I’ll come get you. Got it?”

She smiles, unbelievably touched. “Got it.”

“Good.” Han studies her for a moment more, before a grin cracks his face. Hands on his hips, he turns on the spot and yells, “Ben!”

“Yeah?”

Heavy boot-falls announce Ben’s presence. He rounds the corner, ducking a little to avoid smacking the top of his head on the  _ Falcon’s _ low ceiling, moving with the instinct and grace of someone who is traversing their home. He slows, raising an eyebrow at Han, before turning to Rey. He abruptly stills, eyes locked on her staff.

“What is that?” he asks.

“What, my staff?” Rey asks, bewildered.

Ben steps closer, sharp dark eyes running up and down the staff like he’s looking for something specific. What that is, Rey has no idea; it’s a staff. It isn’t complicated.

“This is Rey’s weapon of choice,” Han interjects, and Ben straightens up. He and Han exchange a long, serious look, filled with meaning.

Rey clears her throat.

“It’s an unusual choice,” Ben says, answering her unspoken question.

“Blasters aren’t cheap on Jakku,” Rey says, hotly, more irritated than anything else by Han and Ben’s loaded gazes. “And I sell every scrap of metal I can pull from the sand. Excuse me for using the only thing I could find to defend myself--”

“Of course,” Ben says. “Please don’t think I’m judging you.”

“Then  _ what--” _

“Can I see it?”

Rey pauses, meaningfully looking from Ben to her staff and back. “I’d say you already are.”

Han snorts, but Ben only looks pained. He holds a hand out.

And Rey, who has never surrendered her staff to anyone in her life; she gives it to him. Ben’s fingers close around the staff, his pinky brushing her index finger, and she immediately lets go.

The staff is taller than Rey, but shorter than Ben. He holds it carefully in both hands, testing the weight of it, eyes darting back and forth along its length, getting the shape of it. There is something weirdly tense about his movements, as if he expects the staff to suddenly snarl and make a grab for him. Rey watches, utterly bemused. She chances a look at Han over Ben’s shoulder; he looks sad, the exact same expression on his face as when he’d spoken to her about not seeing Ben for a while.

Suddenly, Ben says, “Are staffs common on Jakku? Do others fight with them?”

Rey shakes her head. “No one that I’ve seen. As you said; I suppose it’s an unusual choice.”

“Mm-hmm.” He lowers the staff, peering at her over it. Rey frowns back.

“Dad,” Ben calls, holding Rey’s gaze, “Do you have--”

Han is already walking away, moving with clear purpose. Over his shoulder, he hollars, “And your mom called me a  _ sentimental old fool _ for wanting to keep it!”

“Keep what?” Rey asks, and only barely manages to catch her staff when Ben tosses it back to her with no warning. He nods at her quick reflexes, and then jerks his head towards the open door of the  _ Falcon. _

“Follow me.”

* * *

There are a million stars over Takodana.

Rey stands in awe, smiling at them all. Though she can’t see them, she can feel nature all around her, and the wonder there is just as potent; she can hear soft croaks from the flurrgs hidden in the bushes, the occasional soft hoot of a convor getting ready to rest. The leaves on the trees whisper softly, and if she closes her eyes she can almost imagine them saying,  _ Rey, Rey. _ Goosebumps pebble on her bare arms, but it has nothing to do with the temperature, and all to do with the way Ben is looking at her.

He’s holding the item in question that Han had practically run to retrieve. It’s a long metal rod, a bit shorter than her staff, perfectly smooth and round. At Rey’s intense scrutiny, Ben says, “It’s duraplast.”

“I know,” Rey says. She’s picked it off fallen Star Destroyers all her life. “I’ve just never seen it in this form. Is it yours?”

“Used to be,” Ben says. He adjusts his grip on the leather wrapped around the base of the rod. There is a hint of something feral and fierce in his dark eyes, eyes she can only see thanks to the stars and the lights coming from the  _ Falcon. _ Chewbacca, Poe, and Finn had not heard them leave, so Han is their only witness, leaning against a pole on the  _ Falcon’s _ entry ramp, arms crossed carelessly over his chest. 

Han winks at her. Rey frowns, opening her mouth, before she feels the hairs on her neck rise, and she turns automatically,  _ instinctively, _ and her staff blocks the rod from smashing across her skull.

Ben  _ grins. _ It’s dimples all the way down. She’s never seen someone so elated.

“Very good,” he says.

“Take it easy on her, kid,” Han calls, but Rey is already moving.

She pulls the staff back, swinging the other end around, and Ben is there, and it is his turn to block her blow. He does something then-- _ parries?-- _ and she is forced to take a few steps back, doing her best to block the rod raining down on her like black lightning. She ducks, bending her body in half, using the momentum of her staff’s swing to pull her forward. Ben pivots, the rod running parallel along his spine, stopping her before she can slam her staff there.

_ “Yes,” _ he breathes, and the stars above are no match for the stars in his eyes.

Her grin rises to meet them.

She moves on the offensive then, and it is all instinct and determination that carries her forward. Ben retreats, moving closer to the edge of the lake, but there is no sense of defeat in his face or his movements. He is, she realizes,  _ humoring _ her.

_ Take it easy on her, kid, _ she remembers Han saying, and her blood boils with something  _ raw. _

She leaves determination for ferocity. Her strikes become faster, harder, and more varied.

Surprise dances in Ben’s eyes like the flames she has crouched by to warm herself in the nights of the Goazon Badlands.

He moves quickly then, jabbing the rod forward, and Rey gasps, nearly dropping her staff.

Ben leans back. She is pleased to see he’s a little out of breath.

“Adjust your grip,” he says, with no preamble, no  _ Hey, nice job. _ Rather than irritate her, Rey finds she prefers this. She mirrors Ben’s grip, stacking her hands, thumbs pointing in the same direction. Ben watches this, and then shakes his head.

“No,” he says, but she gathers he’s really speaking to himself. He steps closer, and Rey automatically straightens. “Tuck in your elbow, here--”

He guides her elbow to her waist, her forearm running parallel to her staff. Her wrist feels tight, and she adjusts her stance automatically, her legs spreading, her other arm moving further towards the top of the staff. Ben nods, looking more pleased than before.

“Perfect,” he breathes. He steps back, his warm breath gone from her space, and she watches as he bends his knees, holding the rod in both hands, slashed before his chest, peering at her over the top.

“Your move,” he says, and all the blood in her body  _ sings. _

She jerks forward, the bottom half of her staff swinging up under the power of two hands, and Ben hisses as he relies on his weight advantage to parry it. She twists on the spot, bringing the bottom half of her staff back up, but Ben has already danced around her. The duraplast hits the shabbier metal of her staff with an echoing din; the noise does not get to reverberate long before Rey and Ben are moving again.

Ben tries a new  _ slashing _ motion, causing Rey’s staff to jerk up, and she retaliates in the only way she can; she kicks him in the shin.

He automatically careens back, breath coming out in soft huffs, and she moves to apologize, but realizes the noises he’s making is laughter.

He straightens, brushing his dark hair out of his eyes.

“Feral desert child,” he comments.

Rey smirks.

“Uptight overgrown geezer,” she replies.

“Yeah, that’s fair,” he allows, returning her smirk, and charges her.

He keeps his movements slow enough for her to follow them, and it finally dawns on her that he’s trying to  _ teach _ her. His slashes are simple, but the way he moves his wrists and feet subtly change the damage capability of each movement, and she mirrors this as best as she can. She watches the way he uses the much shorter rod to reach all over her body, from her forehead to her ankles, demonstrating how all of her is a target.

She twists her staff in her hands, pointing the end of it to his throat, and he stills, watching her.

Ben grins. He offers her the rod in his hands.

“Switch with me?”

In sync, they exchange weapons, backing up automatically.

Rey becomes aware that Han is no longer alone by the entrance ramp. Finn, Poe, and Chewie have joined him, all three watching Rey and Ben with varying expressions. Finn looks entranced, mouth slightly agape, while Chewie’s eyes constantly slide to gauge Han’s. It is Poe’s look that surprises Rey the most; he looks oddly somber.

Once again, Ben steps close to Rey, adjusting her stance and grip, and once again, she allows the invasion of her personal space. He guides her hands closer together on the rod, directs her hip to angle out from the bottom of the rod, and Rey nods, moving as he directs, even as it means he moves closer to her, and she to him. She finds she doesn’t mind that at all.

Finally, Ben steps back, picking up her staff.

“You have half the weapon you’re used to,” Ben says. He’s twirling her staff effortlessly, running it over and under his wrists like a length of cloth. He doesn’t bother to watch his movements; he looks only at her as he speaks. “But that doesn’t mean you can’t defend yourself just as capably.”

“I’m off-balance,” Rey insists, mourning the loss of half her weapon.

“No,” Ben says.  _ “You’re _ the balance.”

He comes at her, dragging the staff up in a forward slash.

The staff, she realizes, is causing Ben to lose his quickness, his sharp jabs. He is more lumbering, dealing with the second half of the staff like it’s a deterrent, forcing him to go for her with brute strength over finesse. She reacts accordingly; she becomes swift and light.

They dance. 

It could be seconds, or minutes, or hours, or years. There is only Ben and her in this space.

_ “Yeah, Rey!” _ Finn yells, and Rey laughs with delight. She crouches low, sliding away from Ben, swinging the rod towards his back. He arches his spine, catching the end of it with her staff, peering over his shoulder at her with mirth.

He yanks her staff back over his shoulder, twirling it carelessly, and then hoists it in his hands, jabbing forward. Rey squeaks, and it is only her desperate chop of the rod that sends it away from her middle. Ben’s aggressive move leaves him exposed, and she whirls, raising the rod--

Ben’s hand, palm open, fingers splayed, rises in front of the space between their bodies.

Rey barely manages to change the course of her strike, narrowly avoiding breaking Ben’s hand.

Silence falls, save for their harsh and ragged breaths.

Both Rey and Ben stare at his hand; Rey with confusion, Ben with something like horror.

Rey swallows. “Ben, what--”

“I yield.”

The clear-eyed, maniacally happy man she has sparred with disappears in a breath. Ben holds her staff out and she automatically takes it. He refuses the rod she attempts to return to him, brushing past her, moving toward the  _ Falcon. _ The others quickly step aside to let him pass.

Rey takes a step forward, but Chewie shakes his head.

_ “Give him time,” _ the Wookiee says.

Rey stops.

Finn stares at her. “Uh. What was that?”

* * *

They split off to bed by unspoken agreement.

Han disappears into the captain’s quarters, while Chewbacca fits himself into the bunk above the lounge seat in the main hold. Finn, Poe, and Rey go to the bunk room, and begin allocating blankets and pillows.

Poe eyes the dimensions of the bunks. “I’m not sure Ben can fit.”

“Assuming he’ll even show up to sleep,” Finn mutters, casting his eyes fleetingly up for a moment, to the roof. It had been Han who’d figured out that was where Ben had gone, while the rest returned to a seemingly empty  _ Falcon. _

“Kid always liked to hang out up there,” Han had said, and offered little else.

Rey can’t help but feel guilt roll through her at Ben’s absence. She knows something went wrong during their duel, that she did something to upset him. But when she recounts it, goes through every step, every laugh, every bright smile; she can’t figure it out.

Finn and Poe are firmly ensconced in their bunks when she stands. “I’m going to check on him.”

They don’t try to stop her.

Rey exits the crew quarters, walking down the hall and into the main hold. Chewbacca is already asleep, his snores rattling the delicate pipes in the  _ Falcon’s _ ceiling. She steps past him, darting into another room, reaching the ladder leading to the top hatch. The airlock is open, cool night air blowing into the ship.

She climbs the ladder.

With the  _ Falcon _ fully powered down, it’s pitch black outside. Night looms large over Takodana, and due to the planet lacking any moons, it is only the stars above that can create any light. Rey squints, and manages to catch the dark lump that is Ben, huddled close to the edge of the  _ Falcon, _ legs dangling over the edge.

Rey walks towards him, and he looks over, tearing his gaze from the sky overhead. In his dark jacket and trousers, he’s practically invisible, only his pale skin making him separate from all the empty space.

Self-consciously, Rey adjusts the ratty gray blanket around her shoulders. “May I join you?”

She half-expects him to shake his head, to send her away. But he nods, and she slides down next to him, keeping space between them. Abruptly, Ben jerks his arm out, revealing a thermos.

“What’s this?” Rey asks. She’s never turned down an offer of food or drink in her life, so she accepts it.

“Gatalentan tea,” Ben replies. “From Gatalenta. It’s my mother’s favorite.” He pauses, and adds, “You don’t have to drink it--”

But Rey has already unscrewed the lid of the thermos, and taken a tentative sip.

It’s hot, something she isn’t used to drinking; anything worth drinking on Jakku is preferably cold, or lukewarm. The tea is bitter, but also leaves the taste of lemons on her tongue, and she decides she likes it.

“Han had some in his ship?” she asks.

“Maybe,” Ben allows. “But I got this from my things. I carry Gatalentan tea with me everywhere. There’s something about the smell I find comforting.” He glances at Rey, as if daring her to laugh.

Rey swallows another gulp of tea, considering this. She sighs.

“I don’t remember my family,” she admits, and Ben looks at her. “I mean… I can remember a voice. A man’s voice, I think.”

“You don’t have to tell me--”

“I want to,” Rey interjects, and Ben goes quiet. “It’s stupid, really. Nonsense. It’s just this voice saying,  _ ‘The sun will keep you safe.’  _ Isn’t that ridiculous?”

Ben shakes his head. “No.”

_ No. _ As simple as that.

“Ben,” she says, voice soft. “Why did you run?”

Ben has his head tipped upwards, just staring into the midnight black sky, and Rey cranes her neck up to follow his gaze. Part of her wants to try and count the stars, but she knows it would be a futile effort. The only thing she knows for sure is that there are far more stars over Takodana than Jakku.

“What do you know about the Force, Rey?” he asks.

Rey frowns.

“Um… Nothing.”

Ben turns to her. “Nothing,” he repeats, dubious, and Rey sighs.

“I just know… stories,” Rey admits. “Myths, legends. Stories about Luke Skywalker.”

Ben nods, unsurprised. He turns his gaze back skyward.

“The Force does not belong to Luke Skywalker,” Ben murmurs. “The Force is a living, breathing thing. It connects us all, connects all  _ life. _ It exists outside of politics, outside of empires, rebellions, alliances, so-called  _ First Orders… _ It is an immortal thing.” He looks at her. “Some people are more attuned to it than others. Sensitive to it. There are a lot of names for them. Force-users, Force-sensitives… Members of groups including the Jedi, the Sith, the Nightsisters of Dathomir, Force Priestesses, the Ordu Aspectu…” Ben’s mouth lilts in an odd, bittersweet grin. “Everyone is just trying to understand what’s inside them.”

Rey thinks about flying a ship brilliantly for the very first time.

She thinks about picking up languages like breathing.

She thinks about sensing a laser coming at Ben’s head.

She thinks about knowing where Ben was going to move when they dueled.

She looks at Ben, and she thinks--

_ Me. I’m trying to understand. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm trying to be more cognizant of distances and times spent traveling than I thought the movies were, so the gang is on Takodana longer than they were in the movie. This allows for more #FeelingsTime. (JJ Abrams famously does not have much patience for this; he can fight me.)
> 
> "Feral desert child" is my all-time favorite descriptor for Rey.


	5. To bear with unbearable sorrow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Promise me something. Promise me that whatever you do, whatever you become… Promise me that it will always be your choice.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FYI in case someone needs it: Ben smokes a cigarette in this chapter. less for recreational reasons, more for practical reasons.

He sees the moment realization hits Rey, like light from a fast-moving sunrise. Her mouth parts, her eyes widen. Hazel eyes, Ben notes. Light brown eyes flecked with green and gold, above a sprinkling of freckles, and smooth skin.

Ben watches Rey blink, a tiny wrinkle forming between her eyes.

“Do you…” She stops, trying to choose her words carefully. Or so Ben assumes. He decides to rescue her.

“I think you’re Force-sensitive,” he says. “What Maz was talking about earlier, about _brightness?_ She was picking up on how you’re unconsciously interacting with the Force. It’s probably why you could pilot the _Falcon_ so well without flying before; you were moving instinctively, tapping into the lives of everyone else who has ever flown the _Falcon.”_

“And why we could spar so well?”

Ben nods. “You could intuit where I would move next. It’s all… I want to say _muscle memory,_ because that’s what it is, even though for you it’s brand new. But you’re… reaching out and taking knowledge from nature, from life. It’s all memory.”

Rey’s hands tighten around the thermos.

“What does it mean?” she asks, voice tiny.

“Whatever you want it to,” Ben says, his voice firming up next to her hesitant one. “Let how you interact with the Force, how you handle it; make it always be your choice. It doesn’t have to change anything for you.”

“What did it change for you?”

Ben stills.

_Stars die all the time._

“You’re Force-sensitive, too,” she says, and it is not a question.

“It never really changed anything for me,” he whispers. “Because I was always aware of it, and what it meant. The Force doesn’t belong to any one person, but there seems to be… some kind of genetic… component. The Force is very strong in my family.”

“Does Han--”

Ben laughs. _“Ha!_ No. Not really, I should say. He’s probably more attuned to it than the average person, but next to the rest of the family… No, not really.”

Rey turns away, staring out over the jungle. Maz’s castle winks at them in the distance, only a handful of windows illuminated. It’s very late, Ben realizes.

“Did you… sense me?” Rey wonders. “When we met?”

It’s a tough question, but a fair one. Ben thinks about how best to word his answer.

“You know what Maz said, about seeing the same eyes in different people?” he asks, and Rey nods at the not-so-long ago conversation. “I can’t see the brightness like she does, but I could still… recognize it. I’ve spent enough time meditating with the Force to get a glimpse of it when it’s strong, no matter what’s wrong with me. And, Rey… It is _strong_ in you. Finn, too, but he’s much more muted. You, you’re… raw.”

“Raw,” Rey repeats.

“Raw.”

Rey considers it. “What does that mean?”

“It means…” Ben sighs. “It means, if you wanted to, you could learn to become a conduit of the Force. You could heal, and comfort, and protect people. But you could also manipulate, threaten, or destroy people. The Force isn’t a solely good or bad thing, and learning how to balance with it is very difficult.”

“Is that what a Jedi is?”

He glances at her. She does not look accusatory or resigned; only curious. Hungry to know more about what is inside her.

Ben has been here before.

“Jedi rely on the Light side of the Force,” Ben explains. “They learn how to keep the Dark at bay, to walk only in the Light. They act as peacekeepers.”

He stops, before he can sound like he’s reciting one of those wretched ancient texts.

“Han knows a lot about Jedi,” Rey ventures. “And I think you do, too.”

Ben is suddenly so tired.

Tired of the silence. Tired of his simmering rage. Tired of his vast depression. Tired of an unforgiving galaxy that has torn his life apart. Tired of running.

Tired of the grief that stains his lungs, that clogs his throat, that owns his very being.

“I was a Jedi Knight,” he says, and Rey straightens. “I studied under Luke Skywalker at his Temple, from the time I was seven until I was nineteen. I wanted to understand what I was feeling and experiencing, how the Force was running inside me.” He glances at Rey. “I wanted to be a Jedi.”

“What happened?”

Ben shrugs. “Han already told you.”

“Is that what he said, when you talked down by the lake?”

“Among other things,” Ben says. “I don’t think there’s really anything for me to add.”

“Han told me that a young Knight turned on Luke, and destroyed everything,” Rey says, voice rising. “That didn’t tell me _anything._ Where do you fit into that?”

_Where do you fit into that?_

_I know my place in this story,_ Ben thinks. It is suddenly unbearably dismal.

“It sounds like Luke wasn’t the only one who walked away,” Rey adds, and he doesn’t know if it’s the truth of the words or because they’re coming from her, but something in him breaks.

“There’s a reason they call Kylo Ren the _Jedi Killer,”_ Ben snaps. “He was the Jedi who destroyed it all. He killed our classmates, save for those who decided to go with him, to the First Order, to _Snoke.”_

“Who’s Snoke?” Rey asks, nose wrinkling in confusion.

Ben forgets, he realizes, that the intricacies of the First Order are not readily known to the galaxy at large, least of all a scavenger on Jakku.

“He’s the Supreme Leader of the First Order,” Ben says, softly. “He’s who Kylo Ren turned to. Turned for, I should say.”

“To the… Dark Side.”

Ben’s smile is similarly dark. “Well, I’m glad you’re paying attention.”

“Of course I am,” Rey says, almost offended. “I’m trying to find my place in… all of this.”

“Are you sure you want to be part of it?”

“No,” Rey murmurs, and Ben is surprised by her somber tone, her uncertainty, when she has previously sounded heated and frustrated. “I don’t… I have to go back to Jakku.”

“Somewhere you’ll be safe.”

Rey shrugs.

“I get it,” Ben says. “I understand wanting to be safe.”

“Is that why you’re running?” Rey asks. “Is that why you haven’t seen your father in six years?”

“Would you believe me if I said that me running makes the galaxy safer for a lot of people?”

Rey studies him. He wonders what she sees. If she only sees the sallow skin, the dark circles under the dark eyes, the messy hair, the strangely-shaped face, the hunching shoulders. Or if she sees something more, something underneath his skin; that distant thrumming he can no longer feel.

“I think,” Rey says, quietly, “That you’re tired of running.”

He’s tired of a lot of things.

“I’m not…” Ben sighs. “I’m not someone who’s ever had a lot of choice, Rey. Things have happened to me, or I’ve done, because it’s almost automatic. Expected, but not asked for. But you; you have endless choices, and I need you to remember that.” He looks at Rey, and she draws back at the intensity in his eyes. “Promise me something. Promise me that whatever you do, whatever you become… Promise me that it will always be _your_ choice.”

She swallows.

Under the starlight, she glows. Under the starlight, she is ethereal. Ancient and young and foreign and familiar.

Slowly, she whispers, “I promise.”

Ben gets to his feet, and holds a hand out for Rey. She takes it, letting him pull her upright. They walk back to the hatch in silence.

It is only when they are inside, when they are stepping past a slumbering Chewbacca, that Rey stops him with a hand to his arm.

“Ben,” she says, frowning, “You said… You’re only able to get a _glimpse_ of the Force, that there’s something wrong with you… What did you mean?”

Privately, he’d been hoping she might have overlooked that detail.

“When you’re Force-sensitive, you’re able to sense other Force-sensitives,” Ben explains. “If you have a relationship with one, you can sense them even if they’re far away; and if you’re particularly close, then you can sometimes even find them, their physical location, in the galaxy.”

Rey stares.

“I’ve closed myself off from the Force,” Ben explains, “So Kylo Ren can’t find me.”

“Were you close?”

Ben has to look away, before her eyes can morph into the ones that haunt his dreams, that shadow his memories. The shame is gutting.

“Very.”

With that said, Ben ducks his head, walking into the crew quarters. Rey follows him, steps quiet, walking in all that bright light.

* * *

Dawn slips over Takodana, and Ben rises with it.

He is traditionally a light sleeper, and he’d anticipated sleeping very little in close quarters with relative strangers, but he wakes and finds he’s slept quite well. He feels refreshed, and when he glances in the fresher mirror, he notes the dark circles under his eyes have lightened. It does not take much for him to recognize that his sleep was uninterrupted due to him feeling safe; feeling like he was home.

Because the _Millennium Falcon_ has been his home forever, the only stable home he’s ever known. It might be ugly, falling apart in some places, dented and rusted in others, but it’s home. The soundtrack is timeless; his father’s muffled curses when a pipe explodes in his face, Chewbacca’s roars and snores (equally ferocious) and the hum of the engines as the ship breathes. It is only missing his mother’s sarcastic tone of voice, and--

Ben shuts down the reflection before it can become warped and dreary.

He is unsurprised to find Rey and Finn already awake; he imagines Rey, a scavenger, has never been one to sleep beyond what she needs to survive, and that Finn, whatever his background, is too restless to sleep very long. The two of them are seated at the holograph board, eyeing their Dejarik players, in the middle of a new game.

They look up when he approaches.

“That rule,” Finn says without preamble, “About how the player with the longest hair goes first? That’s a Chewbacca rule.”

Ben smiles. “Yeah. It wasn’t until I told it to you that I realized how odd it was.”

“Did you wear your hair long when you were a kid as well?” Rey asks, eyeing his hair. He’d taken advantage of the fresher, and his hair is still drying, falling in straight dark lines.

“No,” Ben admits. “It got in my eyes too much. And I needed all the help I could get to navigate all of this--” He gestures up and down his body, his too-long legs, wide shoulders. “My childhood nickname was _Limbs.”_

“Limbs,” Rey repeats. Finn’s mouth is twitching.

Ben clears his throat, feeling the blush starting on his cheeks. “Where is--”

“Right here, kid,” Han interrupts, coming from around the corner. Poe trails him, and Ben can’t help but reflect on how Poe Dameron somehow manages to remain wildly handsome even while yawning and rubbing his eyes. The same thought seems to have occurred to Finn and Rey, who are both staring at Poe.

“Maz has got a seller for that part we need,” Han continues, ignoring the young people around him. “Once the _Falcon’s_ clean, we can get Poe and that droid sent back home.”

He pauses, and looks at Ben, and the question is clear: _Will you be with them?_

And Ben, for the first time in so long, finds he isn’t sure his answer is _No._

* * *

The castle is just as loud and raucous as it had been when they arrived yesterday. Evidently the time of day does not factor into other patrons’ decisions to start drinking.

Maz serves up a veritable feast: hotcakes and Ikotoch toast with poptree syrup; Vakiir eggs and galma fruit; Bunns and Kuul milk. The effort to cook the feast is undoubtedly worth it, if only for the looks on Finn and Rey’s faces: pure astonishment, and an awestruck sort of joy. Finn’s eyes dart from plate to plate, taking in the different foods, while Rey is frozen, seemingly unable to figure out where to begin.

Poe rescues them. “Start with the hotcakes and syrup.”

They do, while Ben pours everyone a cup of caf. Finn and Rey begin to eat, asking the other questions about the food that neither seem able to answer _(“What is that?!” “No idea, but look at the color!”)_ , and Ben is reminded of his past assertion that they are chaos twins. The way they squabble with and consult one another does nothing to change his opinion.

Poe leans in to Ben.

“What do you know about Finn?”

“Not much,” Ben admits.

“So you don’t know where he came from?”

“Only that he isn’t with the Resistance, or the First Order.”

Poe hesitates. “Well. That’s mostly true. But, uh… Look, I’m telling you this because I am going to do everything I can to get Finn to come back to the Resistance with us, and I might need your support in getting everyone there to accept him.”

Ben stares. “Why?”

“He’s an ex-stormtrooper. He rescued me from… my cell, and we stole a TIE, and crash-landed on Jakku. He was looking for a way out, and he thought, ‘hell, let me rescue this pilot and I’ve got a ride.’”

“Not a bad plan,” Ben says. Next to how Ben knows Finn behaves and thinks, this makes a _lot_ of sense.

Poe snorts. “Oh, yeah.” He stirs milk into his caf, and then looks back at Ben. “So; is that cool?”

“I think I’m the _last_ person to judge who gets to be apart of the Resistance.”

“Maybe,” Poe says, “But you’re the General’s son. That’s got a lot of influence. More than you know. The soldiers will rally around him if you ask them to.”

“Poe…” Ben sighs. “I’m not sure I’m going back.”

Poe gawks. _“What?_ C’mon, buddy, we need you--”

“It’s complicated--”

“I know it is,” Poe snaps. The sudden fire in his eyes gives Ben pause, and some of his hesitation must cross his face, for Poe rests a hand on his shoulder. “I _know_ it is.”

Ben blinks, reminded of their conversation at the lakeshore the night before.

* * *

_“... strong,” Poe says, speaking in a more serious tone than Ben has ever heard him speak. He glances at Ben as he approaches Poe and Han on the lakeshore, waiting until Ben is in hearing range before speaking again. “I’ve never felt anything like it before. It was like he… Like he reached into my head, and he… Pulled. He just… Took things. I didn’t want to give him anything, but it was horrible. I can’t really describe it. It felt… It was--”_

_“A violation,” Ben finishes, and Poe nods, eyes dark._

_He looks haunted. He looks afraid._

* * *

“I’m sorry, Poe,” Ben says, as he had the night before.

“It’s not your fault,” Poe says, quickly. “But if you want to… I dunno, make things right? Come back to the Resistance. I know the whole… Jedi thing and all is hard, but coming to the Resistance is as good a first step as any, right? And think about how happy your mom would be.”

Ben smirks. “That’s emotional blackmail.”

“Hell, my mom’s dead. It’s only right that I use everyone else’s mom against them.”

“Um… If you say so.”

Ben’s elbow is knocked by something, and he turns to the side. Rey is there, eyeing the plate of Nilluk strips in front of his plate. The meat is practically dripping with grease, the liquid reflecting off Rey’s big eyes.

“Are you going to eat those?”

“No,” Ben says, smiling, dutifully passing her the plate. She takes it, adding several strips to her already bursting plate. “Careful, though. Don’t make yourself sick.”

Rey stills, turning to look at him with something like horror. “How?”

“Overeating, or eating too fast.”

“Overeating,” Rey echoes.

“Yeah,” Ben says, frowning, “When you keep eating even when you’re full, and you get sick?”

“That _happens?”_

Ben stares.

 _You really have had no one,_ he thinks. _You’ve really been alone your whole life. You’ve always been starving._

He tries to school his features before his disbelief becomes apparent, but Rey’s eyes quickly turn away, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment, and he knows he’s been too slow.

He hesitates, trying to think of something to say--

“Ben.”

He turns around.

Han is there, hands tucked in his dusty pockets. He glances between Ben and Rey for a moment, before jerking his head behind him, a clear _Outside_ order.

Ben chances one more look at Rey. She studiously avoids his gaze.

He stands, and follows Han back outside.

* * *

“Why couldn’t you have asked Chewie to help with this?”

Ben grunts, re-adjusting his grip on the heavy metal panel, one of the many that make up the bottom of the _Falcon._ He can only see Han’s shoulders and lower, due to the older man being busy with digging through the infrastructure of the ship, trying to place the computer part Maz had supplied.

“Chewie is on a date,” Han replies, voice slightly muffled. Ben pictures him trying to talk around a wrench in his mouth.

“On a date?” Ben repeats. He’s grateful for the thin gloves he’d pulled on this morning, sparing his palms painful scratches from possibly infection-ridden ancient metal. “With _who?”_

“Maz, of course.”

Ben almost drops the panel. _“Maz?”_

“I was surprised too.”

“How long has that been going on?”

Han reemerges, wiping a bit of grease off his forehead, and the image is so familiar and loved that Ben feels something in him tremor. He can’t count the number of times he’s seen Han bent out of shape to fix something on the _Falcon,_ how he’d walk around with wires bursting out of his pockets and tools hanging off his belt. How the smell of smoke and gasoline would trail in his wake, to the point that all Ben needed to do to find him was sniff. How even now, when Ben comes across the smell of rusted metal and engine exhaust, he finds himself standing before a door to the past.

 _I’ve missed you so much,_ Ben thinks.

“I dunno,” Han says, and Ben remembers his question. “Didn’t want to ask. Chewie has put up with a lot from me and your mom over the years… Didn’t think I had the kind of leverage to butt in about whatever’s going on with him and Maz.”

“That’s fair.”

“Plus, you’re just as tall as Chewie, so I knew you’d make a fine substitute--”

“I am _not--”_

Together, Ben and Han manage to pull the panel back into place. Ben holds it still over his head while Han loudly screws it back on.

“Good as new,” he declares.

Ben brushes sweaty hair out of his eyes. “I don’t think this ship was ever new.”

“She was once,” Han declares. “You should’ve seen her, kid. Chrome and white. Not a speck of dust in sight.”

It’s impossible to imagine. “Then what happened?”

Han grins. “She went on adventures.”

“And got old.”

“Happens to the best of us,” Han says.

They look at each other.

For a minute, it’s quiet, save for the sound of the fauna of Takodana flying and swimming and running around them. The sun is continuing its rise into the soft blue sky; it’s now a brilliant beam of light over a nearby high hill, casting orange and red light over Han’s face, and Ben meets his gaze unflinchingly.

He’s spent most of the past couple days feeling old, what with Finn and Rey’s innocent delight, Han’s aged reappearance, but in this moment, Ben feels very young.

“I’m so sorry,” he says, and he is clearly not referring to their conversation about the _Falcon_ and age. Han nods, his arms reaching out.

“C’mere, kid.”

Ben goes, dropping his forehead into his father’s shoulder. Han holds him close, and Ben closes his eyes, and the memories are overwhelming.

_“Aw, kid, don’t cry… It’s just a scraped knee. You’ll be better in no time.”_

_“Ben, get over here, I picked up something for you from Lothal.”_

_“Next year, we’ll all go to Corellia, and I’ll show you where your old man grew up. How’s that sound? The whole family.”_

_“I know I go away a lot, but Ben, you have to know; I’m always going to come back. I won’t ever leave you. Understand?”_

“I left you,” Ben whispers.

“Hey, hey,” Han says, and his voice is oddly choked, and Ben worries they’re both about to start crying, and what a disaster that would be. “It’s fine, Ben. You’re forgiven. We understand.”

“I just… I had to go, I _had_ to--”

“Yeah,” Han agrees. “I know. We know.”

He pulls back, and lifts his hand, touching Ben’s face, thumb brushing over his cheekbone.

“But, maybe, after this,” Han says, slowly, like he thinks Ben might spook and run, “Instead of disappearing into the Outer Rim, you keep in touch? You don’t have to message every week, but once a month or so? Just to let us know you’re alive, and okay?”

Ben huffs a laugh, but it mostly sounds watery and ashamed. “Yeah, Dad. I can do that.”

“Make sure to tell your mother that, when she gets here.”

“You _called_ her?”

Ben’s heart stops, and starts, and thrums; the longing, the anxiety, the child in him waking up.

“She had a meeting with Lando, over on Bespin,” Han says. “I called her up, told her I’d be on Takodana for a few days, if she wanted to come by for a drink. Just the two of us, away from the Resistance; like old times. She should be here today.” Han pauses, and adds, “I didn’t tell her you were here, though.”

“Why not?”

“I thought you should be able to see the look on her face when she sees you.”

Ben nods, allowing a small smile.

“You look so much like her when you smile,” Han notes, a trace of wistfulness in his voice. “Got her eyes, too.”

“Yeah.”

Han nods, his warm expression slowly fading away.

“Do you, um… Do you ever feel him?”

Ben shakes his head. “No. I closed myself off from the Force.”

“Right, of course,” Han says, though Ben isn’t sure he really knows _why_ Ben had to do this, or what it really means for someone like Ben. “I just thought I should check.”

“Yeah.”

“That’s why you ran, right?” Han asks. “So he couldn’t find you?”

“It’s safer this way,” Ben confirms. “Not just for me, but for you, and Mom, and the Resistance. I could… He’s still being trained, and he’s always been stronger than me. He still might be able to find me, even with me closed off from the Force. I wouldn’t be surprised if he found me that way. So it’s safer if I’m as uninvolved as possible.” Ben sighs, and adds, “I really should go--”

“Your mother would kill me if she knew you left before she got here.”

Ben laughs. “So I should stick around?”

“I don’t believe for one second you don’t want to see her as badly as she wants to see you.”

“You’re right,” Ben agrees.

His memories of his mother grow hazier by the day. The physical distance from her is nothing compared to the distance of time, to the devastating fact he cannot feel her warmth in the Force. He can’t reach out to her anymore and feel her reach back, a soft gesture like a kiss on the forehead.

To think that she’s so close, that he will get to see her face soon; it makes the gaping hole of grief inside him become a little smaller.

Suddenly needing something to do with his hands, he fumbles for his shirt pocket, producing a small pack of cigarettes and lighter.

Han’s eyebrows raise.

“Speaking of your mother…”

“Don’t tell her,” Ben mumbles. He lights up, closing his eyes as he breathes the acrid smoke in.

“When’d you start smoking?”

“A few years ago,” Ben admits, breathing in and out calmly. “Not for the thrill of it. But the smoke, the inhalation… It keeps me steady. Keeps me grounded, since I don’t have the Force to help me do that anymore.”

“Ah.” 

Ben opens his eyes. Han’s expression has cleared.

“I read that they help keep people calm,” he notes.

“So far,” Ben agrees. “I think they help. And to… To keep the Force back, to keep… _Him_ away from me… I need all the help I can get.”

The grief between the two of them suddenly feels like too much. Ben stands there, utterly frozen, feeling it wash over him like the waves of the lake in front of them. It is a heavy, dark thing; entirely inescapable, and dense, like drowning. The weight is nearly unbearable, and Ben feels very, very old, and wonders if he looks as ancient to his father as he had to him.

“It ain’t your fault, kid,” Han snaps.

“I couldn't make him stay with me.”

Han quiets at that.

Ben offers him the cigarette.

He watches Han take it, pulling in a long draw.

And immediately starts coughing. Ben’s eyebrows soar.

“Kriff,” Han gasps, “I haven’t had one of these since I was in my twenties.”

“Hell, then I guess that’s how you’ve managed to live that long, huh.”

“Only explanation that fits,” Han says, gruff. He hands the cigarette back, and then just stands there, hands on his hips, staring hard at Ben.

Ben feels incredibly self-conscious.

“Dad, what--”

“I’m proud of you,” Han says, the words bursting out. “I’m proud of you. Proud of how you’ve… You’ve made hard choices, but they were in the name of saving other people. I might not… I’m not happy with how we didn’t hear from you for six years, but I get why. And I know it wasn’t something you did because you thought any other way would be harder. You did it _because_ it was hard, but it was right. And I… That’s a good thing. That’s a real good thing.”

Ben blinks.

“You have a good heart, Ben,” Han says. “And it ain’t a weakness.”

 _Maybe you are Force-sensitive,_ Ben thinks.

How else, he wonders, can Han know exactly the words Ben has needed to hear these last six years?

“Thanks, Dad,” Ben mumbles.

Han nods once. It’s clear he’s reached his maximum sentimentality for the day.

“C’mon,” he says, a hand gentle on Ben’s shoulder, “Let’s go in and get some drinks. You’ll need to drink a gallon of mint liqueur to prevent your mom from smelling that nicotine on your breath.”

* * *

They walk back into the castle, father and son, one gray-haired and glowing, the other dark-haired and slouched, similar laugh lines forming around different eyes, and Ben feels well, _good_ even, to be so near Han and to know Leia is close, maybe just one system over…

 _Maybe, maybe, maybe,_ Ben thinks. Maybe, all is not lost.

Maybe, he can still go home.

Maybe, there is still time.

“A couple of shots of Tevraki for the kid and me,” Han calls to the bartender, a Twi’lek woman eyeing him over neon purple lekku. “Each, to start with. Neat. Do you need to see his identification?”

“You’re not funny,” Ben mutters, even as the bartender trills an airy laugh, and a nearby H’nemthe emits a loud honking noise through his snout.

“I’m hilarious,” Han says. He accepts the shots neatly slid down their way, handing one to Ben. The two men raise their glasses automatically, and Han scrutinizes Ben’s face.

Ben is suddenly afraid Han is going to say something more profound than before, and finds he cannot bear it.

“Chakta sai kae,” he says.

Han grins. “Good manners. Chakta sai kae.”

They throw back the shots. Tevraki whiskey is known for its sweetness, and it goes down smoothly in Ben’s throat. The warmth is a balm, and Ben smiles.

A frantic waving gets his attention. Over Han’s shoulder, he spots Chewbacca, gesturing rather conspicuously to the staircase leading to the lower levels of the castle.

“Chewie,” Ben says, frowning, and Han follows his gaze. Both men rise in sync, abandoning their drinks, walking to the Wookiee.

“What happened with your date?” Han asks.

Chewbacca scowls. _“It was going very well, until we were interrupted.”_

“By…?”

 _“Maz sensed something,”_ Chewbacca replies, and Ben looks around, and realizes there is no sign of Finn, BB-8, Poe, or Rey. The breakfast table is seemingly abandoned.

He looks at the staircase, and immediately hurries down it, Han and Chewbacca at his heels.

The staircase opens to a large hall, stone walls cracked with age but still standing strong. Heavy metal doors appear on either side of the room, leading to what Ben guesses are storage spaces Maz leases out to desperate travelers eager for a safe place to store their things. It is very dark, dim lanterns lighting the space, devoid of any sunlight.

At the end of the hall, sprawled like she’s fallen, is Rey.

Ben is already moving before he fully registers that BB-8 and Maz are beside her.

All he sees is Rey, and the minute sobs shaking her body.

“Rey,” he calls, and she looks up. Even in the faint light, he can see the tears on her cheeks.

He reaches her side, and drops to his knees next to her.

“Rey,” he repeats, watching the way her lip trembles, “Rey, what’s--”

 _The lightsaber,_ BB-8 says, and Ben freezes.

“What lightsaber?” Han asks.

But Maz has already ventured into the only open doorway, the one Rey is positioned before. When she returns, there is a silver cylinder cradled in her hands. Ben has never seen it in real life; only in dreams.

“Where did you get that,” Han asks, voice a whisper.

“This lightsaber,” Maz says, returning to Rey’s side, and only now does Ben realize her glasses are lowered and her eyes are impossibly small, “Was Luke’s, and his father’s before him. And now, it calls to _you.”_

She offers the lightsaber to Rey.

“I am no Jedi, but I know the Force,” Maz continues. “It surrounds every living thing… _Feel it._ The Light, it’s always been there. It will guide you. You will need it in the fight ahead.”

“What fight,” Rey asks, her lips barely moving.

“The only fight,” Maz replies, keeping soft, sympathetic eyes on Rey. “The fight against the dark. Through the ages, I’ve seen evil take many forms. The Sith. The Empire. Today, it is the First Order. Their shadow spreads through the galaxy. We must fight them.” Moving more insistently, she holds the lightsaber out again. _“Take it.”_

Rey tears her gaze away from Maz.

She turns, instead, to Ben.

Her hazel eyes are swimming in tears, and Ben can feel the weight of that lightsaber in Maz’s hands, like it’s tethering down all the good and evil in the entire galaxy, and the enormity of what Rey is facing is monstrous. He holds her stare, and wonders if she is remembering the conversation they had last night, on the Force, and what it can mean.

 _No matter what,_ he thinks, _Let it always be your choice. Not anyone else’s._

Rey inhales sharply.

She scrambles to her feet, Ben, Maz, and BB-8 leaning back to give her room.

“I’m never touching that thing again,” she declares, pointing furiously at the lightsaber. “I don’t want any part of this.”

As Maz splutters in obvious surprise, Rey shoves past Han and Chewie, breaking into a run for the stairs. BB-8 squeaks worriedly, and hastens to follow, careening up the stairs after her.

Ben is still stuck on the floor.

He is torn between surprise, and pride at Rey.

There is no doubt that refusing the lightsaber was her choice.

He wonders what that’s like; making a choice like that. Looking at the future and going with the one you think would be easier to bear.

“Maz,” Han snaps, “Where did you get that?”

“A good question,” Maz says, straightening. “For another time. Right now, we have bigger problems. One of Poe’s contacts commed the castle this morning, asking about BB-8.”

“So…?”

Maz gives Han a most unimpressed look.

 _“So,”_ she echoes, “Poe has not told anyone outside the Resistance where BB-8 is. So how did they know?”

Ice fills Ben’s veins.

“I think,” Maz says, “We are running out of time.”

On cue, as if her words summoned it (and Ben thinks, _Kriff, maybe Maz should be a Jedi)_ , the entire castle _quakes._

“Those beasts,” Maz spits, while Chewbacca emits a roar echoing her tone, but with more profanity. “They’re here.”

“The First Order,” Han breathes, and he looks at Ben, and Ben hates his father’s expression.

Hates how, for the first time, Han looks _afraid._

But not for him; for Ben.

“I’ll get Rey,” Ben says, jumping into action, working to stave off the terror, the adrenaline, the voice in him screaming, _Run, run!_ “BB-8’s with her, they’ll stay close. Dad, you and Chewie should get the _Falcon_ into the air, try and save as many people on the ground as you can, then pick us up so we can get out of here--Maz, where’s Poe and Finn--”

“I don’t know, but we’ll find them,” Maz snaps. “Ben; _go!”_

He’s already running.

This time; he runs towards something.

* * *

It is hard to escape the castle, rife with panicking patrons, many of whom are desperate to avoid the First Order, whether due to debt or crime, or something even more unsavory. Ben is not kind in his shoving, ignoring the shouting and breaking glass, desperate to get outside, all the while yelling Rey’s name.

The ground continues to rumble.

And then he finally pushes his way outdoors, and sees why.

TIE bombers are swooping through the smoke-stained sky, firing lasers from cannons, sending red light into the castle and its surrounding structures, with errant blasts erupting into the lake and forest. Dropships and gunships aren’t in short supply either, sending stormtroopers and weapons to the ground in droves. All Ben can see is a blur of white and red.

He turns, and runs to the forest.

Branches whip past his face, roots and bushes rise to snare his boots, but Ben ignores it all, ducking and jumping. He heads in the general direction of the _Falcon,_ hoping against hope that Rey, in her flight, retained some sense and sought refuge in a familiar place amidst all this foreign green.

He skids to a stop at the sound of mechanized voices.

A couple stormtroopers linger in a glen near him, communicating through their radios.

Overhead, a second wave of First Order ships arrive, and Ben spots it.

An _Upsilon-_ class command shuttle.

 _It could be any high-ranking officer’s,_ Ben thinks, frozen in the brush. _Anyone’s. Not his--_

“Hey!”

The stormtroopers are only able to get two shots off each before Ben has them both shot dead.

He continues his race into the forest, though he does not risk yelling for Rey again. He focuses instead on keeping his eyes up, searching for white, the white of Rey’s leggings and tunic, the wraps on her arms, the light she exudes--

“Ben!”

For the first time, she finds him.

She is a beacon ahead, BB-8 twitching with anxiety at her side.

“It’s the First Order, isn’t it?” she demands as he reaches her.

“Yes,” he confirms. “They know BB-8 is here.”

“We’ll keep you safe,” Rey says, looking down at the droid with eyes full of promise, full of sincerity. “We’ll keep going through the woods, they won’t find us in here--”

 _Yes, they will,_ Ben thinks, looking at her.

_They chased you on Jakku. They’re looking for you, too, Rey. And they know you’re here._

Distantly, he hears a familiar roar, an old Corellian freighter taking off. He would recognize the sound of her anywhere.

He knows what he has to do. He has always known.

“I have an idea,” Ben says.

He reaches for his neck, and yanks free the leather cord hanging there. Without asking for permission, he takes Rey’s hand, tucking the die into it.

“Han--Dad and I,” Ben says, “We installed an anti-thievery device in the _Falcon_ while we were working on it earlier. The die is a kind of key. It’ll get you in, and it’ll get the ship started for you.”

Rey frowns, staring down at the charm in her palm, and Ben keeps talking before she can parse through his words and call his bluff.

“Take BB-8 with you,” Ben continues. “Head north along the lakeshore towards the _Falcon._ I’ll go the other way, deeper into the forest; I’ve been here before, I can traverse it better than you. Between the two of us, they won’t know who to follow, so hopefully we’ll split them off. And then--”

Both he and Rey turn as one towards the sound of approaching gunships.

But the shrieking noises in the sky are different.

An x-wing flies over their heads.

“The Resistance,” Ben breathes.

Rey’s smile is resplendent. Ben looks at her, and keeps looking, taking in the sight of her smiling face in the golden green glow of Takodana, and for a moment, there is no war in the galaxy, no battle in the sky, no evil lurking in the castle, and Ben thinks, _I must remember this--_

BB-8’s shrill whistle snaps him out of it.

“You’ve got your blaster?” Ben checks, and Rey nods, retrieving the blaster he’d given to her the day before ( _Had it only been a day?)_ from her belt. “Good. Now go.”

“Where do we meet up?” Rey asks.

Ben stares at her.

_We don’t, Rey._

“The Ileenium System,” he says. “It’s time to get BB-8 home. And I… It’s time for me to go home, too. It’s time for me to stop running.”

Rey stares at him.

And then she smiles, again. This smile is smaller, but somehow, hits him harder.

“I’ll see you there, Ben,” she says, and he nods.

“They have to get the map, Rey,” he says, forcing harshness into his voice, because he _needs her to understand this._ “The First Order is hot on us. We have to make sure the Resistance gets to Luke first. They _need_ him; the galaxy needs him. Understand?”

“Of course,” she murmurs.

“Good,” he breathes. “Good. Now go.”

She nods, and turns, and she and BB-8 are running, jumping and sliding, and she is all bright, warm light--

“Rey.”

She pauses, turning to look back at him, a quizzical frown marring her features.

He takes her in.

“Rey,” Ben says, “Don’t be afraid.”

“Sure,” she says, easy. “You should remember that, too.”

_“It’s time, Ben. Don’t be afraid.”_

“I know,” he says.

And she’s gone.

He watches her until she disappears into the forest, BB-8 an orange blur at her feet, and then he begins to walk back the way he came.

The forest seems to darken as he walks, the shadows suddenly elongated. He focuses on his steps, on not sliding in the mud that is damp in places. The birds of Takodana are silent, shaken by the battle that has arrived in their wood. All he can hear are blasts and bombs and ships roaring and snarling, humans and aliens below screaming and fighting. The castle cannot be more than rubble now, and even with all the loss he’s lived, the loss he faces at the end of this last walk, he can’t help but mourn.

He reaches a clearing. He can see smouldering ruins ahead, spots a few stormtroopers hurrying off a transport.

Ben closes his eyes.

Everything goes silent, like all the noise in the world has been sucked out.

And then it is very, very loud.

The Force _explodes_ around him, out of him. A million voices talking, yelling, laughing, screaming, dying, living. Animals, plants, oceans, skies, deserts, dust, stars, suns, planets; everything is around him. The past, and the future, on a collision course. And in the middle stands Ben Organa-Solo, free at last.

Free, and ready to be found.

He wonders, briefly, if Rey can sense him, if she can recognize him.

He doesn’t reach out to her; he can’t afford to be distracted. There are two people he needs to contact.

He reaches for Leia first.

She was the second person he reached out to, back when he was in her womb, and couldn’t even understand anything. She was a presence, something warm and protective, and he reached out to her with the Force. And she reached back. She touched him, his soul or mind or whatever he’d been then, and she soothed him. She said _Hello, my love. I’m your mother._

 _Mom,_ he calls, and she is easy to find, so easy to find. She’s close, just as Han had said she was, and Ben shakes with grief, the grief that he won’t get to see her again after all. _Mom._

He projects the feelings and images as best as he can, desperate to get his message across, the urgency and desperation most of all: _Rey is headed north along the lake. She has BB-8. Send a transport to get them. Go straight to Luke._

He feels her surprise, her relief, and the first inklings of her reaching back.

_Ben! Ben, wait--_

_Save Luke,_ he snaps, and the thrust of his message, the emphasis knocks her away. _I’ll buy you some time. My choice._

 _My choice,_ he thinks, a message he is begging her to understand just as much as he is begging himself.

It is the last words he will be able to give to her.

_Ben--_

_Ben._

And there he is. The second person. _His_ second. Back when all he could think and feel was _you and me._

Ben opens his eyes.

It is so easy now. Easy, after holding back for so long. He’s been walking blindfolded for six years.

“I’m here,” he whispers. “I’m right here. Come get me. You know where to find me.”

The Force roils, as he feels a dark presence reach out.

Ben waits. He doesn’t have to for long.

Kylo Ren looks about what he’d expected.

He is dressed in black from head to toe, leather and cloth, immaculately fitted, designed for battle. His robes only somewhat resemble the Jedi tunics and uniforms they’d worn as children, and the black hood is straight out of a Sith playbook. The mask, though, Ben thinks, is a more recent addition. One undoubtedly inspired by Vader. One worn by a man determined to retain his anonymity, to deny his family.

Kylo Ren stops about ten feet from Ben. Two stormtroopers hang further back.

Ben stares into the obsidian mask.

“You’ve opened yourself up to the Force, again, at last,” Kylo says, and the modulator shouldn’t surprise Ben, but it does. It makes him ache.

He doesn’t dare speak. He won’t tremble in front of Kylo Ren.

“And here you are,” Kylo says. “It’s been a long wait.”

“Who’s been waiting? _”_ Ben asks, glad for the sudden anger that makes his voice snap rather than quake. “You and the Supreme Leader? You and your Knights? Or just you?”

Kylo steps closer. Ben doesn’t bother moving. 

“Where’s the girl?” Kylo asks.

Ben only waits.

He watches as Kylo lifts his arm, hand stretched to Ben. Ben closes his eyes, feeling Kylo slink into his mind.

“You’ve seen the map,” Kylo breathes, and Ben isn’t sure if the relief he feels in the Force belongs to him or Kylo; they both have reason to be relieved.

 _My choice,_ Ben thinks. 

Ben, relieved because now Kylo doesn’t need Rey; she can go free.

Kylo, relieved because after six years, Ben has come to him freely, and Ben has everything he needs.

_Let it be my choice._

“Why aren’t you running?” Kylo asks.

“I’m tired,” Ben admits, and the crack in his voice is real, but he thinks it adds to his performance.

All he needs to do is get Kylo Ren angry, to remind him of what is at stake, to get him to call a cease fire and recall the First Order from Takodana, so the Resistance can recover Rey and BB-8.

The time between that recovery and Kylo Ren seeing the map is dependent on Ben’s will. The fate of Luke Skywalker, the answer of who can get to him first, the First Order or the Resistance, is dependent on how long Ben Organa-Solo can hold out before being forced to give up the map to Kylo Ren.

 _Don’t be afraid,_ he thinks, and imagines it is Rey saying it to him.

“It’s you and me, now,” Ben says, and he makes it a drawl, all Han Solo bravado and Leia Organa arrogance, designed specifically to irk Kylo Ren.

This man, this monster. Ben’s best friend. His other half. 

“It’s always been you and me,” Ben continues. A savage reminder of who they are to each other.

Twins.

_You and me._

“I want to stand beside my brother again, Bail,” Ben says.

He watches Kylo-- _Bail--_ jerk his wrist.

Ben is unconscious before he hits the ground.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know exactly what would be needed to make the Falcon "clean", but it doesn't matter.
> 
> #RIPSharaBey. It was a joy to write her in the Nonsense and a tragedy she is not in this story/universe.
> 
> I don't mean to imply that Ben and Leia were sharing exact thoughts at the end there. Just feelings. Ben: desperation and direction; Leia: confusion and pleading. Stuff like that.
> 
> I think it is a very interesting and fun scenario in which Kylo and Ben are identical twins. (Leia and Han did have twins in the Old EU, though theirs were fraternal, a boy and girl). Opens up a lot of possibilities, and puts a real literal spin on the whole "dark vs. light" dichotomy. I am sure this has been done before, but this story is my take on it.
> 
> I love writing around the theme of choice, and inevitability, and this story was a very exciting way to explore those themes.
> 
> If you are reading and enjoying this story: I'd love to hear from you! I've written a lot of ROGUE ONE fic (687,546 words... so much) but this is my first real foray into the Sequel Trilogy.


	6. To try when your arms are too weary

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “But I can’t… I’m not a Jedi!”

Rey runs.

Her ears are ringing with the noise of the battle happening above and behind her: ships shrieking through the air, dropping bombs and firing lasers; blasters shooting wildly as the castle crumbles; the crackle of stormtrooper radios. It is just like the last time she was on Jakku. She is still running for her life, and a small droid is hurrying after her.

 _We must be nearly there,_ BB-8 trills.

“Just ahead,” Rey says. She catches glimpses of the lake through the trees, the water choppy with the chaos of the battle breaching its shores. “A little further--”

They break through the trees, and Rey turns, and--

The _Falcon_ isn’t there.

For a moment, she can only think, _There’s been some kind of mistake._

It certainly was here. There are divots on the ground from where the ship had rested on the dirt, and she recognizes the angle of the land across the lake that she and Ben had looked at the night before.

 _Where is it?_ BB-8 asks.

“Ben said…” Rey says, and stops.

He’d given her instructions to find the _Falcon,_ claiming that it would be better for them to split up, to confuse any First Order stormtroopers following them, searching for BB-8. He’d said he knew the forest better, would be better able to hide in it than Rey, who should take BB-8 to the _Falcon…_

_“Where do we meet up?” Rey asks._

_Ben stares at her._

_“The Ileenium System,” he says. “It’s time to get BB-8 home. And I… It’s time for me to go home, too. It’s time for me to stop running.”_

She can’t make sense of it, but she knows that something is missing, that she’s misunderstood something critical.

 _Rey!_ BB-8 says, his beeps insistent.

She looks up, just in time to see the Corellian YT-1300 transport fly over their heads. She can’t tell from here who’s piloting it; but as the ship dives before making an aggressive spin upwards, guns blasting at TIE fighters, she knows they are a good pilot, fighting alongside the Resistance.

 _Where do we go?_ BB-8 asks.

“I…” Rey starts.

She feels very exposed, standing on the lakeshore, with the droid this entire battle is centered on.

She has to do _something._

_What would Ben do?_

And it’s as if he’s heard her, because suddenly, she can _feel_ him.

He is a sunbeam in her head, brilliant light and a full spectrum of color. He had called her bright, and while he is too, she is overwhelmed by how he is _warm._ He runs hot, and she wishes to stay close to all that soft warmth, a welcoming and familiar presence that might stand next to her and make her feel safe and protected.

There is no name attached to this presence, but it is him, it is Ben. She knows it in her bones. _There you are,_ she thinks, and then, weirdly, _I missed you._

Here he is, making himself known in the Force, she realizes. This is how she can feel him, like a brush against her mind.

But why _now?_

_“I’ve closed myself off from the Force,” Ben explains, “So Kylo Ren can’t find me.”_

To open himself to the Force here and now, with the First Order breathing down their necks; it’s maddeningly stupid, and Rey cannot believe it, can only reach out to Ben, chanting _why why why--_

Like a newly-risen sun, he is a beacon.

She knows anyone Force-sensitive in the area has felt him; they would have to be numb not to.

Which means, if Kylo Ren is here, on Takodana; then he can find Ben.

Why would Ben let him?

“BB-8,” she says, turning to the droid, which peers up at her. “Stay here for a bit. I have to go back to the castle. Something’s wrong.”

 _Of course something’s wrong!_ BB-8 beeps. _We’re being attacked._

“No,” Rey says. “No, something else is going on. I think… I think Ben’s in trouble. I have to go back for him.”

She watches as BB-8 reels back, turning his lens back and forth, from the forest behind them to the forest ahead of them. Behind them are bombs, blasts, and screaming; in front of them is open space, a sunlit trail, quiet nature. She knows her choice to go back is probably frying a circuit or two in BB-8’s logic processors.

“Hide yourself,” Rey says, firmly. “I’ll come back for you. Or Han, Chewie, Poe, Finn; whoever comes back first, go with them. Okay?”

 _I don’t like this,_ BB-8 says.

“You and me both,” Rey mutters. “Please. For me.”

If her plea is not enough; then hopefully BB-8 can also tell that she’s going to go anyway. The droid wilts a little, but bobs his head, rolling obediently into a clump of bushes.

“Thanks,” Rey breathes, and starts to run back the way she’s come.

The woods are quieter now, and she finds herself straining to hear as she runs, her breaths coming in sharp gasps. She can still feel Ben clearly, feel him like an electric shock, and it is this overwhelming presence she sprints to. He’s moved closer to the castle, but he doesn’t seem to be moving anymore--

And then she nearly trips, as something _cold_ smashes into her mind.

She staggers, gasping not at her exertion but at the frost that has come from nowhere to coat her lungs. While Ben’s presence had been warm and comforting sunlight, this new one is dark, cold as the ice planets she has only ever heard of, cold as the worst night in the Jakku winters, colder than she can really comprehend. The cold creeps, and though it goes against her every survival instinct, Rey continues her charge forward.

 _Ben,_ she thinks, and she wishes she’d asked him or Maz more questions about the Force, to know if there was a way for him to actually hear her. _Ben, I’m coming._

She cries out when the warmth vanishes.

Like a plug has been pulled from a socket, a heater snapping off.

The cold remains.

She presses on.

Stormtroopers appear through the trees, and though she knows it’d be best to shoot them, she focuses instead on avoiding them entirely. Engaging them will take time, and she’d much rather spend that time getting to Ben, wherever he has gone. The cold is lingering near, an icicle to the throat.

She emerges from the forest.

Maz’s castle is demolished, brick and stone collapsed and singed. Bodies litter the area, bodies belonging to stormtroopers, patrons, and droids, all sprawled haphazardly, knocked down where they stood. Weapons, blasters and knives, line the rock and dirt like fallen leaves. Shattered glass has left a fine mist over everything, and the smoke from fires started from the destruction causes Rey’s eyes to sting.

Dimly, she can hear Chewbacca roaring, and she allows herself to feel a small pang of relief that at least one of her newfound friends is still alive.

A handful of First Order transports are on the ground, rumbling, and her eyes take these in, the red and the black and the white. She feels horribly small, standing at the edge of the forest, only her little blaster in her hand to defend herself.

Her eyes catch on the shuttle that dominates the space. It’s large, with one-hundred foot tall wings pointed straight into the smoke-stained sky, the whole ship entirely black. A battalion of stormtroopers linger beside it, ready to defend it, focused solely on the figure approaching it.

It’s a man, dressed head-to-toe in black like his shuttle. He’s tall, a shawl wrapped carelessly around his head and shoulders. A mask hides his head, shielding his identity; but from the way the stormtroopers jump to salute him, she can tell he’s clearly someone high-up in the First Order. A commander, maybe.

A couple stormtroopers trail him, dragging something between them, someone wearing dark trousers and jacket, messy black hair hanging around his dropped head--

“Ben!”

Rey can barely recognize herself, the sound of her voice yelling his name. She’s running again, running single-mindedly towards the shuttle, watching in horror as the man in black climbs the ramp, the stormtroopers following with Ben. He’s unconscious, his head lolling to the side, his boots dragging in the mud behind him. He doesn’t react to her screams.

“BEN!”

She’s making an easy target of herself, and she moves instinctively, predicting blaster fire headed her way and swerving to avoid it, firing back without looking. She can only push herself forward, eyes locked on the shuttle, even as its ramp closes, Ben inside.

“NO!”

The shuttle lifts off, a blast of hot air from its engines spewing across the battlefield that was once Maz’s castle, and Rey is knocked off her feet by the force of it. She flies back, barely missing smacking into a bit of jagged concrete, landing hard on her back in the dirt. She can’t sit up with all her breath knocked out of her, and so she can only watch in horror as the shuttle lifts into the sky, its wings turning downward as it speeds up and up, above the clouds, past the sun. 

The TIE fighters and other First Order ships follow it.

Rey remains on the ground, mossy earth gripped in her hands.

She stares unseeingly at the sky.

She can only see her worst memory, when she looked at an emptier sky, and felt the same rabid fear that coalesced into a lifelong grief:

_“No! Come back, come back!”_

_“Quiet, girl.”_

Her breaths are ragged gasps of air through her stricken lungs. She forces herself to blink, and feels the water slowly trickle out of her eyes.

“Rey.”

She turns her head.

Han stands over her, looking worse for wear. His gray hair is askew, soot darkening one of his cheeks. His clothes are bedraggled, a bit of mud caught on his calf. She hates the way he’s looking down at her; softly, with sympathy.

“He’s gone,” Rey whispers.

Han nods, looking frayed, looking ancient. “I know. I saw.”

Rey opens and closes her mouth, words tangling in her throat. What is there to say?

Han turns away, jerking his head away from the forest, to the lake’s edge. “C’mon, kiddo. Let’s regroup.”

He holds out a hand, and gratefully, she lets him pull her to her feet.

* * *

Regrouping means waiting for the Resistance to land.

Chewbacca approaches Rey, and doesn’t ask for permission before wrapping her up in a hug.

 _“You okay?”_ He asks.

“I don’t think so,” Rey admits, and Chewbacca tightens his hold on her.

“Where’s the droid?” Han asks, and she pulls away from the Wookiee, grateful for the distraction.

“A little bit further up the beach, where the _Falcon_ was,” Rey says. “Speaking of which; where _is_ the _Falcon?”_

Han cracks a tiny smile, looking over her shoulder. “Dameron’s been hounding me for years to give him a chance to fly her. He took the first opportunity. Didn’t even ask for permission.”

“Hell, General, we didn’t have that kind of time,” says Poe, coming up from behind Rey. She can only catch a glimpse of the _Falcon,_ landed on the other side of the ruined castle before her vision is filled by Finn. Like Chewbacca, he doesn’t ask for permission to hug her, and like Chewbacca, he wraps her up tightly.

Rey grips him back, pressing her chin into his shoulder, her lips turning up in a smile, glad to see her first friend again. “Are you okay?”

“You should’ve seen him, Rey,” Poe says, beaming.

Finn leans back, and his smile is just as wide. “Poe is one _hell_ of a pilot. No offense to you or Ben, but _man,_ can he move that ship.”

At the mention of Ben, Rey’s relieved smile drops. Finn catches it.

“What’s wrong?”

A long gray transport flies over their heads, unmarked, so Rey assumes it must be another Resistance transport. Han, Chewbacca, and Poe leave them to follow it.

“Ben’s gone,” Rey says, voice halting in a whisper.

Finn blinks. “Gone?”

“With the First Order,” she says. “I saw it. He was taken. By some… some monster in a mask--”

Finn’s eyes shutter. “A tall man, wearing all black robes?”

Rey frowns. “Yes. Who was it?”

A tense look of fear darkens Finn’s brown eyes. It’s familiar, an expression she’s seen him wear before, when he spoke of--

“Kylo Ren,” Rey breathes, answering her own question.

“Sounds like it,” Finn murmurs. “Kriff, Rey, this is _not_ good. Why’d they take Ben? Did he have BB-8?”

“No,” Rey says. “He was alone. But he opened himself up to the Force right before. I think that’s how Kylo Ren found him.”

Finn frowns, confusion lining his face, and Rey knows Finn doesn’t know what she means by the Force or Ben opening himself up to it. She doesn’t have any answers for him, though; even though she might have a vague idea of what it means now, the _why_ is completely unknown.

She shakes her head, and thankfully, Finn picks up on her unwillingness to talk about it.

He takes her hand, and she lets him, grateful for his stability and sympathy.

They walk towards the lake edge.

The transport has unloaded, spilling out people and aliens of all species and races. Some of them are wearing bright orange flight suits, while most are in some kind of uniform, tan shirts and khaki trousers, beaten leather boots up to their knees. She spots Poe embracing a few of these individuals, laughing and talking excitedly, before she hears a loud series of beeps. She looks up, her face breaking into a massive grin when BB-8 careens into her legs. She immediately drops to her knees next to him.

“How did you get here?” she asks, and then remembering how they parted, “Wait. Did you follow me?”

 _No,_ BB-8 replies, a hint of offense blemishing his otherwise cheerful response. _They picked me up._

“Who, the Resistance?” Rey asks, though there is clearly no other answer. BB-8 is here, surrounded by Resistance soldiers. “How did they know where you were?”

“My son told me.”

Rey looks up.

A woman stands in front of her, dressed all in gray save for a warm purple vest covering her torso. Her mousy brown-gray hair is tied back in an elegant knot, away from her face, a face lined with age, wisdom, and laughter. Dark brown eyes stare back at Rey, and they are eyes she has seen before, has looked into, and been seen by.

Rey gets to her feet as Leia Organa approaches her.

Leia’s face tips up to study Rey, and Rey meets her gaze as best as she can.

“You must be Rey,” Leia says, and Rey nods.

“You’re Ben’s mum,” she replies.

Leia’s mouth quirks in a thin smile. “It’s been awhile since I’ve been called that. But yes; though it might be easier to call me Leia.”

Rey can’t quite get her mouth to shape Leia’s name. “What do you mean, Ben told you where BB-8 was?”

Leia’s dark eyes turn somber. Distantly, Rey is aware that Han is standing right behind Leia, hands on his hips. Rey wonders if anyone has told Leia what has happened to Ben.

“He reached out to me,” Leia says. “Through the Force. He tipped us off on where BB-8 had gone. And you. He asked us to get you both.”

“I felt him,” Rey murmurs.

That sunlight. The sudden starfire. The sheer warmth.

“But why did he do that?” she asks. “We were running, and he said we should split up, and so BB-8 and I kept going, and… Then I _felt_ him. But he’d told me he couldn’t do that because Kylo Ren would find him. And then he did.”

Leia gives a sharp little intake of breath at that. Her dark eyes match Ben’s; they are both haunted.

 _Haunted,_ Rey wonders, _or hunted?_

Han shifts in place, and Rey turns her gaze up to meet his. He’s tense, his shoulders hunched, an ancient man waiting for an execution.

“Rey,” Han says, voice surprisingly gentle, and it just makes everything that much worse, “Tell us what Ben said to you. Everything.”

She does. She recounts how she’d run from the Skywalker lightsaber (and Leia, consummate politician, doesn’t even blink at this revelation) into the forest, until she’d heard the First Order ships arrive, and Ben caught up with her. She tells his parents about her determination to spirit BB-8 away to safety, and how Ben was on the same page, until he suddenly was not. Until he took his necklace off, and gave it to her.

“He said it would be a key to the _Falcon,”_ Rey says, slowly, reaching into her pocket for the trinket. “But that doesn’t seem right. But I’m not sure why…”

She opens her palm, revealing the single gold die, and Leia gasps, her hand fluttering for her mouth.

It is Han who steps forward. Rey drops the die into his palm without hesitation.

Han closes his eyes, gripping the die tightly, knuckles turning white.

“Kriff, Ben,” he whispers. _“Kriff.”_

“I don’t understand,” Rey says, wishing this was not as common a thought for her as it has been.

“This die was part of a set,” Han explains, avoiding Rey’s eyes, focusing instead on the muddy ground. “A set I’ve had… forever. I won the _Falcon_ in a game with these dice. They’ve been lucky for me. And, uh… When Ben was a kid, I’d go on a lot of long trips, and I wouldn’t see him for a bit. I always felt bad. So I decided to give him one of the dice. A reminder that even when I wasn’t there, when I was gone… I loved him.”

Leia is pained, so pained. Her free hand grips Han’s sleeve.

“So, why…” Rey starts, and stops, because she thinks she knows her answer.

Han confirms it.

“He gave you this die,” Han murmurs, “So you would give it to me. And I would know that he wanted to say goodbye.”

* * *

The reveal of the die strikes a newfound sense of urgency in Han and Leia. Han turns on his heel and marches to the Resistance transport, while Leia begins yelling orders. Her troops snap to attention, moving about as she tells them they are leaving immediately, to return to base. Rey allows herself to be swept up in the chaos, hustling onto the transport with Finn at her side. Poe actually asks Han for permission to fly the _Falcon_ , and incredibly, Han gives it. Rey suspects Han’s willingness to part with his beloved ship has to do with the die he’s clutching; its appearance has created something destabilizing in him.

As BB-8 begins to talk to a gold-plated protocol droid with an odd red arm, Rey marches straight to Han. He’s showed Chewbacca the gold die, and the Wookiee is making a noise Rey can only describe as a wail.

“What do you mean?” Rey demands, seizing a handle on the wall as the transport lurches into the air. “He was saying goodbye? He knew Kylo Ren would catch him?”

“He knew the second he decided to give this die to you,” Han murmurs.

“But he didn’t have to!” Rey exclaims, and her exclamation causes a few nearby heads to turn, Leia’s soldiers frowning at her in confusion. “We could’ve outrun the stormtroopers, hidden in the forest--”

“The First Order wouldn’t have stopped their attack until they had the droid,” Han snaps. “Or until they had you; Kylo Ren would have only needed to take a glance into your mind to find the map. I don’t know much about the Force, but I know that. He would’ve tortured you until you gave it up, like he did to Poe with BB-8.”

Rey stills.

The ship shakes, and then the stars outside the window blur as they make the jump to lightspeed.

“So, Ben, he…” She shakes her head. “He gave himself up? What, for me?”

Han’s mouth quirks; it might be a hint of amusement.

“My kid sure is a Skywalker, isn’t he?” Han asks.

Rey stares.

And stares some more.

Han frowns, narrowing his eyes, analyzing her shocked expression.

“Hell, the kid didn’t _tell you?”_

“Skywalker?” Rey repeats. “Are _you_ a Skywalker?”

Han snorts. “Not even a little. But Ben is, just like his mom. Luke is Leia’s brother. Twin brother, actually.”

“He didn’t tell me,” Rey says.

“I’m sure there are a few things Ben didn’t tell you,” Han says, not to sound mean, but because it’s the truth. Rey is beginning to get a clearer picture of what had just happened on Takodana, in that she knows there was a lot more at play than what had appeared.

_“Rey,” Ben says, “Don’t be afraid.”_

But he had been afraid, hadn’t he? His bravado, his swagger; it was an act. Ben Organa-Solo was not the fast-talking cargo hauler who’d glared down at her on the _Millennium Falcon._ Ben Organa-Solo was the quiet, thoughtful man who’d sat next to her under the stars and spoken of the Force, and of loss, and of choice.

Such as the choice to walk straight to Kylo Ren.

“If it makes you feel better,” a droll voice interjects, and Rey and Han turn as Leia approaches them. “He didn’t do it just to save you. He did it because he knew the First Order taking him instead of you or BB-8 would give us more time to get to Luke.” Leia smiles a little, but there is no satisfaction in it. “My son is a talented strategist when he wants to be.”

Rey thinks of Poe, and his battered face, and his pained eyes.

“So, he… he thinks he can last longer under _torture?”_

Han and Leia exchange a glance.

Rey becomes uncomfortably aware that there are tears gathering in Han’s eyes.

“What do you know about the man who calls himself Kylo Ren?” Leia asks.

Rey frowns. “Just that he’s horrible. He tortured Poe. Finn doesn’t even want to talk about him, will only say that he’s… bad. And Ben…”

_“Don’t be afraid.”_

“I think Ben is afraid of him,” Rey finishes.

Leia nods. “Yes. Ben is afraid. But not of Kylo Ren. He’s afraid of what he might become _with_ Kylo Ren.”

“What does that mean?”

Han sighs, wiping his eyes.

“If Ben didn’t mention Luke was his uncle,” Han says, arching an eyebrow at Rey, “Did he at least happen to mention that he has a twin brother?”

* * *

_Twin brother._

Rey sits, dazed, feeling just as blurred as the lines of stars spinning outside the window. She’s heard enough travelers’ tales of the Rapture to avoid staring, though she thinks she wouldn’t be able to understand the shape of anything with the way her mind is struggling to process right now.

It had become very obvious to Han and Leia that Rey had absolutely no idea Ben had a twin brother, none the least that his twin was Kylo Ren. Rather than discuss this more, Han had simply put a hand on Rey’s shoulder and said, “We’ll talk about this back at base,” and Leia’s tense stare at Rey had been enough for Rey to agree.

She gets the sense that Kylo and Ben being brothers is a secret, going by Han and Leia’s unwillingness to talk about it in a small space with dozens of Resistance soldiers. And going by the fact that Ben did not tell her; she likes to think he was largely honest with her, even as it has become clear he did withhold quite a few things.

Rey leans against the wall, suddenly feeling utterly drained.

Her eyes slip closed.

* * *

_The waves crash against the rocks, sending foam and cold water into the air, settling as fine mist over Rey’s skin. She smiles against the chill, tipping her head up; the soft sunlight combined with the cool water creates a heady comfort._

_She turns, taking in the tall green hills, thick with seagrass and dark moss, sprinkled with dainty wildflowers. She starts to walk, leaving the island’s edge, climbing leisurely up the narrow stone stairs._

_“Rey.”_

_She looks up. Standing ahead of her, wearing the clothes she last saw him in, is Ben. He’s frowning at her, head cocked in thought._

_“What are you doing here?” he asks._

_Suddenly, Rey realizes she doesn’t even know where “here” is. She only knows one thing:_

_“I’ve seen this place before.”_

_The sea, the island, the rocks; it’s familiar. Just as familiar to her as the man watching her._

_She looks back at Ben._

_His eyes have widened, and he’s taken a step towards her, reaching a hand out automatically as if to grab her._

_“Rey,” he whispers. “Rey, run.”_

_Frowning, Rey turns._

_The man dressed in black is there, heavy mask covering his face, and he has a red blade in his hand, spitting pure energy, and the heat is too much, and Rey screams, and screams, and she is not the only one screaming, but one of a million--_

Her eyes snap open.

The transport is still hurtling through space, but Rey’s heart is pounding, and her ears are ringing with screams. She grips the ledge of the window above her, staring around in mute terror.

To her relief, Finn is staring back at her, his expression dazed.

“What was that,” Rey mouths.

He shakes his head.

The comm in the ship crackles.

“Senior leadership to the cockpit,” the pilot intones. “All senior leadership to the cockpit immediately.”

Rey is still trembling.

Whatever it was; it wasn’t good.

* * *

D’Qar is beautiful. The planet is covered in lush jungles, only interrupted occasionally by plains. It’s far from the main space lanes, and perpetually shadowed by a thick line of asteroids, giving it an extra bit of protection. Rey understands easily enough how and why the Resistance has chosen this planet for its base in the Ileenium System.

Moving somewhat mechnically, she trails Finn out of the Resistance transport. The base is pure chaos, x-wings, a-wings, and y-wings landing one after another. The _Millennium Falcon_ is given a place of honor at the end of a runway, and a handful of Resistance soldiers and techs hurriedly move to greet it, murmuring to one another in low, excited voices.

Though Rey is eager to know more about Ben and Kylo, she is forced to remember that there is a war going on. One that Ben seems poised to become very involved in, and one where she… 

_“The only fight,” Maz replies, keeping soft, sympathetic eyes on Rey. “The fight against the dark. Through the ages, I’ve seen evil take many forms. The Sith. The Empire. Today, it is the First Order. Their shadow spreads through the galaxy. We must fight them.” Moving more insistently, she holds the lightsaber out again. “Take it.”_

Briefly, Rey wonders what might have happened to the lightsaber she refused.

She moves with the tide, going underground, into an open space. The room is crowded with star charts and boards, datapads and computers, droid parts and blasters. The command center looks to be a single table close to the middle of the room; it’s currently projecting what looks like footage from the battle over Takodana. Rey tries her best to remain unobtrusive, clutching onto Finn’s sleeve, the two of them standing against a wall.

“This is something, huh?” Finn breathes into her ear.

“I’m a long way from Jakku,” Rey manages, and Finn huffs a soft laugh.

She opens her mouth, to tell Finn about Kylo’s relation to Ben, and stops short. Though Finn is her first and closest friend, this is not her secret to share.

“I have an announcement.”

The room instantly goes silent, a hundred pairs of eyes turning to survey Leia as she moves to the center of the room, to stand illuminated in the light coming from the command center. She’s stricken, her dark eyes wide, and Rey recoils instinctively.

“The Republic,” Leia begins, and stops. She pulls herself together. “The First Order… has successfully launched a devastating attack on the Republic. The Hosnian System… has been annihilated.”

The room bursts in panicked voices. Rey feels the minute hairs on the back of her neck rise.

_Annihilated?_

She thinks of the voices, so many voices, the screaming… 

_“The Force is a living, breathing thing. It connects us all, connects all life.”_

And she knows; she heard the destruction of the Republic. Somehow, she heard it, like she was standing right in the middle of it. She closes her eyes, and hears the voices, and Ben yelling her name over the din… 

“I know this is an impossible loss,” Leia continues. “It means we are the last military standing against the First Order. It means we have lost our closest, best ally. But it does _not_ mean that we give up. It means we regroup, and it means we prepare for the next battle.” Her lips quirk. “Rebels do not rest.”

Though the room is still full of terrified faces, Leia’s words seem to create a soft aura of comfort.

“Now, let’s see it,” Leia says. Rey watches as BB-8 rolls forward and projects the map for the room to see. It’s suddenly pin-drop quiet, a hundred pairs of eyes analyzing one blue-green shred of the galaxy.

Rey already knows what they will find.

“It’s incomplete,” Poe says.

“It isn’t leading anywhere,” another voice calls.

“Does anyone recognize this hyperlane?”

“Probably the Unknown Regions.”

“Or Wild Space?”

Rey ignores the theories and arguments that soon permeate the room. She looks only at Leia; the General’s hopeful expression has turned desolate, and it hits Rey.

No one in this room expected the map to be incomplete.

Finn is on the same thought path.

“Do you not have the rest?” he asks, raising his voice so it carries through the room.

“We were under the impression this was a _map,”_ a wizened Mon Calamari calls in a slightly wheezy voice. “Not just part of one.”

“You don’t know how to get to Luke?” Rey asks.

Her heart thuds in her chest. That was the point of everything; to deliver BB-8 to the Resistance, to give them the map to Luke Skywalker. She fled Jakku for this, traveled to Takodana for this, met Finn and Ben Organa-Solo for this, watched Ben walk away from her to Kylo Ren for this--

She watches this last realization cross Leia’s face, like a dropped bomb.

Leia clears her throat.

“Okay, everyone,” she says, and the room as a whole gravitates towards her, and Rey wonders what having that kind of power is like. “Let’s start reaching out to our contacts in the Inner Rim; see what might be known about what happened to the Hosnian System, what kind of eyewitness accounts might exist. Get in touch with anyone you know who might have heard something about a weapon that could have caused this. We do have a reconnaissance ship following the First Order, but let’s gather whatever intel we can in the meantime.”

She steps back, and the room devolves into murmuring voices.

“What do we do now?” Finn asks, and Rey remembers she’s still clutching his hand.

“I don’t know,” she replies. His eyes are as wide as hers, and she wishes she could draw comfort in sharing his fear. Instead, she only feels more afraid.

While she and Finn felt lost and confused, it was Ben who held them together, with his steadiness and surety. To not have him now, while knowing the Republic has been obliterated and the map to Skywalker incomplete; it feels like a cruel, cosmic joke.

Finn seems to read her mind.

“I wish Ben was here,” he murmurs, looking crestfallen, and Rey realizes that while they are each other’s first friend; for them both, Ben is their second friend.

“Rey.”

Leia stands there, clasping her hands neatly in front of her.

“Can I speak with you?” she asks.

* * *

Rey follows Leia out of the room, down a series of long, dark hallways. These areas are nearly empty, save for the occasional soldier; each soldier is crying, or hurriedly speaking into a comlink, or scouring the holonet. They are all either perched on the edges of cots or seated at desks, and Rey realizes this is where the Resistance sleeps, and that these soldiers are likely desperately trying to contact people in the Hosnian System.

Leia leads her into a room at the end of the hall. It’s larger than the others, with an actual bed, and a low window, the world outside hidden by green vines. Rey sits in the rickety chair next to a slightly smudgy mirror.

“You heard the attack, didn’t you?” Rey hears herself ask.

“Heard it, and felt it,” Leia confirms. She closes the door and turns to Rey. “Han told me about the lightsaber calling to you. You’re Force-sensitive.”

Rey swallows. “I guess.”

“No guessing,” Leia says, wryly. “You _are._ Deny it all you want; but the Force will still be there. There is no running away from it.”

_“Let how you interact with the Force, how you handle it; make it always be your choice. It doesn’t have to change anything for you.”_

“But there is,” Rey whispers, Ben’s words fresh in her mind.

She wonders if the Force can make people psychic, for Leia seems to deflate, instantly understanding to who and what Rey is referring.

“I know it’s none of my business,” Rey continues, “But please. I don’t understand.”

Leia nods. She walks forward to sit on the bed, and Rey is suddenly aware of how _small_ Leia is. Her presence seems to fill up most spaces, her voice loud and reverberant, but in this room, with only Rey, Leia looks fragile.

“Ben was always my most sensitive boy,” Leia murmurs. “And I don’t mean in Force-sensitivity; Bail is his equal. Both boys were _highly_ attuned to the Force; even Luke was amazed.”

“Bail?”

Leia is twisting her hands together, seemingly nervous; perhaps this is the first time she’s ever told this tale to a stranger. Rey fixates on the large ring on Leia’s right hand, fitted with two identical dark blue stones.

“My other son. Older than Ben by just six minutes. He was very eager to follow him.” Leia shrugs. “I had heard twins were genetic, but we were still surprised. Not only twins, but identical ones. Two little boys, with my eyes, their father’s nose, their grandmother’s mouth, and their grandfather’s hair. Perfect in every way. Bail was… vivacious. Witty, outgoing, too uninhibited for his own good. And Ben was gentle. Kind, shy, thoughtful. They complemented each other brilliantly. One had the ambition to do anything, and the other had the temperance to do it carefully. Unstoppable.”

And this, these characteristics; these fit in with the Ben Organa-Solo Rey knows.

“They did absolutely everything together,” Leia continues. “They were inseparable. I often thought they could read the other’s mind; they seemed to know what the other would do or say before it happened. I know part of it was them reacting to the Force, but I _know_ it was also to do with their bond, their closeness.”

“But what happened?”

_How did Bail become Kylo Ren?_

“To this day,” Leia murmurs, “I don’t know.”

Rey stares.

Leia looks at her.

“I only have theories,” Leia explains, with a little hopeless laugh. “Guesses, wishes. I know it has to do with Snoke… _targeting_ him. But even then, I don’t fully understand what that means. Ben knows. I know he does; those boys shared everything. But he was never able to tell me, not before he… He ran.”

“From Kylo,” Rey says, as she thinks this is kinder than saying, _From his brother._

Leia nods. “He’s in a very dangerous position. I suspect he is one of the First Order’s most wanted, second only to Luke; not only would Snoke be all too pleased to have Ben on his side, but Bail would, too. His partner in crime; his best friend, his only brother, his other half. If Bail and Ben were to unite for a cause, and if that cause was the Dark Side… Then I’m afraid there would be no going back. Not for them, and not for the galaxy. So Ben has spent the past six years trying to avoid the Force, and Bail, and… Everyone.” Leia’s dark eyes are somber. “It is a burden I would never wish on anyone, much less my son.”

Rey nods tightly. Leia’s eyes are looking at her so beseechingly, searching for something Rey doesn’t think she can offer.

“What happens now?” she asks.

A universe of pain darkens Leia’s face. She no longer looks only tiny; she looks unspeakably old.

“We find Luke,” she says, “And ask him to train you.”

Of all the things Rey had anticipated Leia would say; this was not one of them.

_“What?”_

“His lightsaber called to you,” Leia says. “I don’t know what exactly you saw--”

_A dark metallic hallway lit in blue--_

_Mechanical, steady breathing--_

_A battlefield in pouring rain--_

_A group of masked people--_

_Her own screams--_

_An unknown man’s voice saying her name--_

_Snow--_

“--But it came from the Force,” Leia says. “The Force is calling you, Rey. We cannot afford to ignore it. Not when… Not when the galaxy needs the Jedi. Now more than ever.”

Rey gawks at her.

“But I can’t… I’m not a Jedi!” she exclaims.

“But you have the potential to be,” Leia interjects. “And you can be. If Luke teaches you.”

“But…” Rey tries again. “But I was asking what happens next, with Ben.”

And Leia nods.

“I know you were.”

Rey frowns. “So… Why would me becoming a Jedi be what happens with Ben--”

But she breaks off, as Leia’s words, Leia’s _expression;_ it suddenly becomes clear.

“You think he’s going to join Kylo.”

Leia’s grip tightens, her nails creating small half-moon marks on the backs of her hands. Cold fills Rey, but it is a different cold than what she’d felt on Takodana; this cold is all hers.

“I think my son’s fate could go one of two ways,” Leia murmurs. “I think he could join his brother, and become Snoke’s apprentice, a new Knight of Ren. Or… I think he could refuse, and be executed for it.” Leia looks up, meeting Rey’s horror-struck gaze. “The First Order is searching for Luke so they can destroy him; they fear him returning to join the Resistance. If they are unable to extract his location from Ben, they will kill Ben, so that at least, Luke will be the last Jedi.”

Silence falls between the two women.

Rey looks down, studying her scuffed, mud-coated boots.

“And that’s why you want me to train with Luke,” she whispers.

“Luke cannot be the last Jedi,” Leia says. “And he definitely cannot face my sons alone. Even with Luke’s… talent, his wisdom, his strength; like I told you, my sons are unstoppable together.” Leia sighs. “This is not a fate I would ever give to someone, Rey. You don’t deserve to be caught up in all of this. But the Force… The Force does not care for our fights, our beliefs. If Ben falls, then we need light to rise to meet him.”

 _He can’t fall,_ Rey thinks.

She thinks of Ben’s sad smile, his sarcasm while dealing with the Guavian Death Gang, his tender way of moving around the _Falcon._ She thinks of him showing her how to use a blaster, and teaching her how to duel next to the lake. She thinks of Ben offering her a job, and giving her the first compliments she’s ever had. She thinks of him talking to her under the starlight, of asking her to promise him to always make the choice she wanted to.

She wonders what he would think of the massive decision facing her now.

She wonders if, somehow, he always knew it would come to this.

“General.”

Rey had missed the door opening.

A young woman stands there, her blond hair arranged in two neat buns. She’s a little out of breath, and staring at Leia.

“General, the reconnaissance report is in.”

* * *

Rey is only half-listening to the discussion about Starkiller Base, and the weapon it houses. She only barely understands the size and scope of the thing. She only briefly gleams how the weapon is preparing to fire on them, here on D’Qar.

She feels very heavy, buried under all that Leia has said, all that faces her now.

She does perk up a little when Finn speaks, responding to Han. Finn, she thinks, fits in well here. It had only been during their argument on Takodana, when he was prepared to leave for the Outer Rim, that he’d told her about his stormtrooper past. She wasn’t sure why he’d waited so long, though she guessed it had to do with fear. It was not like Rey had any ground to stand on when it came to judging others’ beginnings; she was a scavenger from Jakku, determined to return to that pitiful life.

Unless she went to Luke Skywalker.

Unless she became a Jedi.

Unless she became a Jedi to fight Ben Organa-Solo, turned Knight of Ren.

 _He can’t fall,_ Rey thinks, again.

The meeting adjourns, and she gathers that they are launching an attack on Starkiller Base. Pilots and technicians are running every which way, darting up the stairs to the landing platforms above. Rey moves instinctively, going to Finn’s side, where he’s speaking in low undertones with Han and Chewbacca.

When Finn sees her, he brightens.

“Are you coming with us, then? I thought you might be more interested in piloting a starfighter.”

Rey frowns. “Going where?”

Finn and Han exchange a brief look.

“We’re going to Starkiller Base,” Finn says, slowly, “To take down the shields, so that the Resistance can blow up the weapon.”

Rey frowns, because that doesn’t quite explain the secret way Finn and Han are talking--

“We’re going to Starkiller Base,” Han says, in a low undertone, glancing around briefly to add, “So we can get my son.”

Rey stares.

“You’re going to rescue Ben?” she asks.

“We’re going to try,” Finn says, and she can only stare at his determination. “C’mon, Rey, you have to agree with me on this. After everything Ben’s done for us, we can’t abandon him. He could’ve left us to the Guavian Death Gang, and taken the _Falcon_ himself, but he didn’t. He offered us both jobs so we could have better lives, and he didn’t have to do that. He could’ve turned me in for not being Resistance when he found out about me, but he didn’t. He’s been… _kind._ And I don’t know about you, Rey, but kindness is not something I’ve been around a lot.”

“But, you said,” Rey says, “Everything you said about Kylo Ren--”

“--Is still true,” Finn interrupts. “Look, it goes against everything I believe in to go _back_ to the First Order like this. But Rey, you gotta know; Ben would do it for us. So we should do it for him.”

And he would.

She knows this just as firmly as Finn does.

Warmth blossoms in her heart. Warmth like Ben’s presence; warmth like hope.

Over Finn’s shoulder, Han smiles.

“Let me get my staff,” Rey says.

* * *

They decide to take the _Millennium Falcon_ , because it’s Han’s ship, and because it’s the fastest ship in the Resistance fleet, so Rey doesn’t have to retrieve her staff after all. It’s still tucked away in the _Falcon,_ left leaning against the wall where she’d left it after her and Ben’s duel.

She twirls it around, smiling at the familiar weight.

A soft throat-clearing interrupts her.

Han stands there, awkwardly, hands in his jacket pockets.

“How you doing, kiddo?” he asks, walking to stand by her.

“I feel like I should ask you that,” Rey says. “Ben and Kylo aren’t my sons.”

Han nods, a tense smile carving his face. “Leia told you the story, then.”

“As much as she was willing to, I guess,” Rey says. “This must be awful for you.”

“Yeah,” Han agrees. “But I kind of feel like I always knew it was gonna happen this way. Ben is quick and smart, but… No one can run forever.” Han shrugs. “I should know.”

“Leia thinks he’ll either die or be turned.”

Han nods, running a hand over his cheek. “Yeah. She’s probably right.”

“Probably?”

“She forgets she’s got a bull-headed nerf-herder of a husband who’s always game to charge blindly into a good fight,” Han says, and Rey can’t help but laugh.

Han’s expression shutters, becoming more melancholy.

“I don’t know for sure all that happened with… with Bail,” he says, “But I know I played a part in it. And that’s on me. I’m hoping… Hell, I’m hoping I might have a chance to rescue both my boys today.”

“Do you think you could?”

“Leia thinks I have a shot.”

At Rey’s questioning look, Han clarifies, “My wife doesn’t need to be Force-sensitive to know getting that shield down isn’t the only reason I’m making this trip.”

“Clever woman,” Rey says, while privately feeling some relief.

It bodes well, she thinks, that Leia isn’t willing to give up just yet on Ben.

Or Bail.

“But, uh, speaking of the Force…”

Rey watches as Han pulls his hand from his jacket. In it is the Skywalker lightsaber, the one that had called to her, the one she’d refused.

“You don’t have to take it,” Han says. “You can carry that staff of yours, or that tiny blaster you’ve got, and you’d be fine. But I’m offering this to you anyway. It saved Luke’s life more than once. It’s got a long history. And it might help you, too.”

Rey swallows hard.

The lightsaber in Han’s hand looks small, and unassuming.

And Han, holding it; he looks kind and sympathetic.

Much like his son.

_“Promise me something. Promise me that whatever you do, whatever you become… Promise me that it will always be your choice.”_

Rey takes the lightsaber.

No visions come to her, no screams, no unknown voices.

It is only her, and Han, and a destined weapon in her hand.

* * *

While Finn leans over Chewbacca’s shoulder, watching the Wookiee navigate their course to Ilum and Starkiller Base, Rey runs back outside the _Falcon_ for the last crate of explosives.

She stops in her tracks at the sight of Han and Leia embracing.

Leia’s face is pressed to her husband’s chest, and tears are sliding down her cheeks.

Han cradles her neck in one of his hands.

Rey watches them. She knows she should be embarrassed about witnessing the intimacy of this moment, but she feels only longing; she wishes someone would hold her like that.

They return to themselves, slowly, parting with a kiss that is so gentle it makes Rey ache.

Leia catches sight of Rey on the entry ramp, and beckons her over. With one hand holding onto Han’s sleeve, she takes Rey’s hand in her free one.

“May the Force be with you, Rey,” she says.

Rey squeezes Leia’s hand.

“I know you believe he’s said goodbye to you,” she murmurs, glancing at Han as she speaks, “That he thinks he won’t come back. That you’re afraid he’ll turn; but he won’t. I haven’t known Ben for long, but I know he’s _good.”_

The two adults look at her, and if she squints, she can see Ben in both their features. Leia has his eyes; Han has his smile.

“He won’t turn,” Rey says, “And he won’t die, either. Not if I can help it.”

Han’s smile is dazzling, and Rey thinks, _I hope one day Ben will smile like that at me, too._

As Rey watches, Leia turns, bending a little to pick something up that had been set on a crate. She takes the object in her hands, and it’s cylindrical, metal, with an activation switch perfectly placed under where a large hand’s thumb would be.

It is very similar in design to the lightsaber that hangs on Rey’s belt, though the metal is darker; beskar, or maybe quadanium steel. There are two metal vents jutting out its sides, just above where she’d fit her hand.

“This was Ben’s,” Leia says, unnecessarily. “He left it behind, with all his things, when he ran from Luke’s Temple. Leaving his lightsaber told me he was going to hide; it told me goodbye.”

She extends her arms, offering the lightsaber to Rey.

“When you see him,” Leia murmurs. “Please give it to him. So he will know it’s a _hello_ from me.”

Rey takes the lightsaber without hesitation.

 _How lucky you are, Ben,_ she thinks, looking at Leia and Han, _to have parents who miss you this much._

“I will,” Rey says. “And he’ll be able to tell you hello himself. I promise.”

Leia arches one immaculately shaped eyebrow.

“Spoken like a true Jedi,” she says, deadpan.

Rey considers it.

“Maybe.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finn's line of "I wish Ben was here" is a cutesy nod to A NEW HOPE, when Luke said it about Ben's namesake. Everyone needs a Ben.
> 
> Leia's ring is canon. The non-canonical backstory of this ring will be shared later in the story.
> 
> It's important to me that Finn retain his autonomy and character development in this story; so the idea to go to Starkiller Base remains his. Rey is his first friend, but Ben is his second. He is also loyal to Ben.
> 
> Yes, Ben's lightsaber is identical to Kylo Ren's in the movies. (But not red, obviously.) In the Old EU, the crossguard lightsaber was an ancient design popular among hardcore duelists, which fits Bail and Ben: diehard Force-nerds with a lot of raw power. I know Ben Solo in the movies rebuilt his lightsaber when he turned, but I am making the argument here that when Bail turned, he kept his lightsaber; but the blade turned red, and the crystal cracked. (This is probably too On The Nose, but this is STAR WARS, and we are not here for subtlety.)
> 
> I am working on a sequel to this fic (THE LAST JEDI style) and having a great time. I've had to dig out my copy of "The Jedi Path." The real tragedy of the Nonsense was the lack of Jedi and lightsabers, so I am going all in here.


	7. To fight the unbeatable foe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Am I not my brother’s keeper?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really struggled with whether or not to up the rating of this story to "M." This chapter is Grim; cw for non-graphic torture, discussion of suicidal thoughts.

Ben is dreaming.

He knows he’s dreaming, because he’s swimming, and he hasn’t swum since he was a child, and the body he is in now is clearly his own adult form. The water is cool but not frigid, calm but not still, and Ben does not so much as swim as float. On his back, head tilted up to the pale, empty sky, face barely above water.

What a tranquil, windless dream it is.

There is nothing for him to do but to rest.

Or to wait.

_ Ben, _ comes a whisper. A man’s voice, he thinks. Or not a voice at all. Only a breath.

He closes his eyes, and lets himself sink.

_ Wake up, Ben. _

* * *

Ben’s eyes fly open.

He is in a small dark room, lined with gray and black, lit only by an occasional blue or yellow light that seems poised to flicker out at any second. He is not fully lying down, but isn’t entirely straight either, his body instead tilted at an angle due to the chair he is unfortunately strapped to. He can see a conduit leading to an electricity port, a needle in his arm hooked up to an unknown substance, and hear a dull, even thud that seems to increase by the moment; his monitored heartbeat.

These three things in one sighting are definitely not good news.

Ben’s eyes are swimming a little, and he blinks quickly, as the darkness of the room firms out.

Crouched in front of him is Kylo Ren.

Ben can only stare, and hope his heartbeat doesn’t give him away.

Kylo Ren stares back, perfectly still. Bizarrely, Ben thinks about how Bail couldn’t ever get this still even in the middle of the deepest meditative trance.

The silence stretches.

He knows there is no point in asking where he is, but he can’t help himself--

“Where are the others?” Ben asks, proud that he is able to keep his voice steady.

“The others,” Kylo echoes, “You mean the murderers, traitors, and thieves you call friends? You’ll be relieved to hear that I have no idea.”

It is a relief. Kylo is right about that. Ben nods tightly. He tilts his head back, looking up at the plain ceiling.

Kylo gets up, a creeping shadow, and Ben’s eyes snap back to him automatically.

“Long time, no see,” Kylo drawls. “Where have you been?”

“Unfortunately, I didn’t keep very careful track of my itinerary.”

“You were hard to find.”

“That was the goal.”

“You were hard to find,” Kylo repeats, “Until you suddenly were not. You gave up. You revealed yourself. To me. Why?”

Ben eyes him, only seeing his own pale reflection in the mask. “I told you, didn’t I? And I didn’t reveal myself to  _ you; _ I revealed myself to my brother.”

“Your brother is dead.”

Ben’s heart jolts; the monitor issues a warning squeak, and both he and Kylo look at the machine keeping track of it. Ben can’t help but hear his father’s voice in his head.

_ “You have a good heart, Ben,” Han says. “And it ain’t a weakness.” _

How ironic, Ben thinks, that his heart might ruin him here, now.

“Even so,” Ben murmurs, turning away from the machine, and back to Kylo, to the creature in the mask, “I should get to look in the eyes of the man I walked to.”

For a moment, Ben is convinced that Kylo will either laugh, or leave the room.

Or ignore him entirely.

But instead, Kylo reaches to his head, and releases the clasps on the mask. He takes it off, and Ben finds himself looking at his twin brother’s face for the first time in six years.

It has always been less weird to be faced with someone who looks identical to him, and always more weird to see his own face backwards. But that is his chin, his nose, his mouth, his eyes, and his same thin, angular face. Kylo’s hair is wavier, and cleaner, and Ben supposes that haircare is a luxury you have when you’re not on the run and living on credits won in card games in cantinas. 

“No beard,” Ben notes, as this is probably the most striking thing that differentiates the two men now. Kylo’s face is clean-shaven, and Ben would reach to touch his own beard if his arms weren’t tied down. “Would it catch on your mask? Or is it a vanity thing? I kind of like mine. I’ve gotten a few compliments.”

Kylo doesn’t say anything. He only stares.

There is very little in his dark eyes; no emotion, no familiarity. It is devastating. Ben wishes to crawl out of his skin.

“Tell me about the droid,” Kylo says, and that’s Bail’s voice, and Ben’s voice, and the past is the future is now.

“He’s a BB unit,” Ben says, reeling off basic facts, “He’s kind of sassy, and rude, but I think he ultimately has his heart in the right place--”

“He’s carrying a fragment of a map to Luke Skywalker.”

Ben scowls. “So you don’t really care about the droid. His name is BB-8, and you  _ have _ met him before--”

“And we have the rest,” Kylo continues, ignoring Ben, but stepping closer to him. “The rest of the map, recovered from Imperial archives. We just need this one last piece, and the droid showed it to you. And now, you’re going to give it to me.”

Right.

Kylo lifts a hand, and Ben squeezes his eyes shut, and the Force roars around them.

* * *

_ “Dad!” _

_ The front door slams, and at the same instant, Ben slams into his father’s legs. Han staggers at the force of his hug, nearly dropping his heavy duffel bag onto his son’s head. Ben, blissfully unaware of the near concussion, presses his chin into his father’s thigh. _

_ A moment later, Han is nearly toppled by a second, identical hug. _

_ “Dad,” Bail says, his voice an echo of his twin’s. “You’re home!” _

_ “I will be, if you let me in the door,” Han grunts, but there is only warmth in his voice. “How are my boys?” _

_ “Good,” Ben says, “We had grav-ball practice earlier--” _

_ Bail jumps in, “It was us, and then Mikhail and Skov and Tania and Xena--” _

_ “Oh, and we went up a size in shoes! We’re now sixes--” _

_ “I jumped off the back wall, and then Ben ran under--” _

_ “And I pushed him up, it was stellar--” _

_ “And I scored! And then immediately got hit by Nele, she was on the other team--” _

_ “His face turned bright red--” _

_ Han laughs, waving his hands, a universal gesture asking the boys to slow down. They do, stepping back, finally giving Han a bit of space. He reaches down, and cups each boy’s face, one in each hand. _

_ “Try to remember that while you two might share the same brain, your old man doesn’t. Why don’t you take me through it again, slower, one at a time?” _

* * *

Ben stumbles back to wakefulness.

Kylo is leaned over him, frowning. His hand is still curled, close to Ben’s temple; Ben half-expects to feel a red welt blooming on his cheek. While his father’s touch in the memory had been gentle, he’s woken to a rabid headache, like Han had slapped him. But he assumes that’s just what Kylo trying to burrow into his brain feels like.

It isn’t his fault that Kylo meant to invade Ben’s mind, so Ben defended himself by churning out a memory he associates with brains and minds.

Well; it kind of is Ben’s fault. But in a good way.

“The map,” Kylo says, teeth clenched, “Show me the  _ map.” _

* * *

_ “We’re lost.” _

_ “Don’t be a di’kut.” _

_ Ben snorts a laugh. “Don’t let Mom hear you say that.” _

_ Bail turns around, giving his brother a cocky smirk. “Who’s gonna tell her?” _

_ They both know Ben won’t. These conversations belong only to them, are not privy to their mother’s stern ears. _

_ “My point stands,” Ben continues, barely managing to duck under a long, thin branch of a Zaela tree before he can whack his head on it. He’s grown six inches in the last half-year, and never does he truly feel the pain of this change than when he’s walking somewhere new and forgets how tall his thirteen-year-old self is now. Though they’re the same height, Bail somehow never has this problem. “Can you even read that map? Isn’t it in the Naboo language?” _

_ “Naboo’s got enough similarities to Basic that I can get by,” Bail insists. _

_ “That’s the biggest load of Bantha poodoo I ever--” _

_ “No, Ben, look,” Bail interrupts, turning on his heel, shoving the map under Ben’s nose. “Didn’t you see that weird tentacle fern a little while back? It’s on here. So we’re right… there.” _

_ Ben surveys the map. By Bail’s understanding, they are roughly smack in the center of the thirty-four square miles that make up Lianorm Swamp. _

_ “I think tentacle ferns are more common than we might expect, Bail,” Ben says, diplomatically. _

_ Bail groans. “That isn’t as helpful as you think it is.” _

_ The two teenage boys break into squabbling, each pointing in a different direction. It is only when a shadow appears next to them that they break off, turning as one. _

_ A stubby-legged, squat creature eyes them. It has tanned, reptilian-skin, and four legs ending in surprisingly sharp claws. Two large horns protrude from its nose. _

_ “It’s a mott,” Ben murmurs. “They’re herbivores, and--” _

_ “I don’t give a flying kriff what it is,” Bail hisses back. _

_ The mott seems to agree. It glares at the two boys, stamps one of its front legs on the swampland, and roars. _

_ Ben and Bail are already running. _

_ They can hear the mott galloping after them. _

_ “They’re territorial,” Ben yells, nearly swallowing the wispy branches of a cambylictus tree, running for all he’s worth. “We must have encroached--” _

_ “Shut UP, Ben!” Bail is a dark blur among the light green trees. “‘You don’t need your lightsabers,’ Master Luke said, ‘It’ll be a fun family trip to your grandmother’s homeworld,’ he said--” _

_ Ben laughs, and laughs, even as the mott bellows behind them. _

* * *

It is harder to wake this time, but Ben manages. His head is ringing, thumping in time to the memory of the mott’s heavy steps.

Kylo is staring at him.

“That was a fun day,” Ben says, a little unnerved to find his voice can only croak. “Do you remember? We ended up jumping into the lake to get away from it. Mom was furious--”

He’s forced to break off, as something wraps around his throat, and  _ squeezes-- _

“The  _ map,” _ Kylo snarls, “To  _ Skywalker.” _

* * *

_ He is seven years old, and his uncle is standing over him, smiling, the sun making a halo behind his head. He crouches next to Ben, resting his hands on his knees, the sunlight glinting off the mechanical fingers of his right hand. _

_ “It’s time, Ben. Don’t be afraid.” _

_ “I’m not afraid,” Ben says, but his sniffle casts doubt on that assessment. _

_ Luke’s smile is gentle. “It’s perfectly normal to be afraid. Comforting, even.” _

_ Ben frowns, looking up from where he’d been busy trying to hide his face in his knees, pressed tight to his chest. “What do you mean?” _

_ “Being afraid means you’re being careful,” Luke says. “It means you know you face a long journey that will at times be terribly difficult. But you’re prepared for that.” _

_ “Bail isn’t afraid,” Ben mutters. _

_ Luke shrugs. “Bail is more impulsive than you, Ben. And that isn’t always a bad thing, like how you being careful isn’t a bad thing. You’ve got different strengths. All I want to do is help you both be the best you can be.” _

_ Ben blinks, hard, casting shining eyes to the little white house behind him. “What about my parents?” _

_ “They just want what’s best for you, too.” Luke touches Ben’s knee. “You won’t be alone, Ben. You’ll have me, and Bail, and the rest of your class. You won’t ever be alone.” _

* * *

Ben opens his eyes, and the room is blurry. He can feel hot tears sliding down his face.

“It was a lie,” Kylo hisses. His eyes finally show some emotion; he looks deranged. “Skywalker never wanted what was best for us, he only wanted us to be specifically what he was--”

“He did,” Ben whispers. His brain is on fire. “He loved us--”

_ “Love,” _ Kylo snarls, “makes you  _ weak.” _

* * *

_ There is no moon over Takodana, but Ben knows each step he’s making by the light emanating from Rey. _

_ He swings the training rod towards her right shoulder, and she parries, throwing up the left part of her staff to knock his blow aside. He twists on the spot, turning his back, bringing up the rod towards Rey’s right side. But she’s already there, blocking his hit. _

_ He grins. _

_ Rey’s smile is its own universe. _

_ He’d wanted to start her off with Shii-Cho, but she’s challenging enough to push him into Makashi, and maybe that’s for the best. She’s already been a fighter her whole life. And, more importantly; she desperately wants him to challenge her. He can do that for her. _

What do you want, Rey? _ He thinks.  _ I want to help you get what you want.

_ He throws the rod up, knocking Rey’s staff, and she darts back, creating a space between them. They look at each other, lit only by the stars above, and the open entrance ramp of the  _ Millennium Falcon.

_ She twirls the staff in her hands. _

_ And then she runs straight to him. _

* * *

Blood drips out of his nose.

Ben thinks it’s blood, and then it reaches his lip, and brushes his tongue, and he knows it’s blood.

Kylo is looking at him, something new and calculating in his eyes.

“That’s the girl, right?” he asks. “The scavenger.”

Ben squeezes his eyes shut. Behind his lids, Rey still smiles.

“She looks like Leia Organa.”

That makes Ben snap his eyes open.

“Ugh, don’t make me think about that,” he mutters.

“If you don’t give me the map,” Kylo says, voice low, and though he’s fading fast, Ben can feel that there’s something else lurking in his brother’s voice, something new and old and mysterious and familiar. “I will hunt her down. I will  _ tear _ through her mind, until she’s screaming.”

It is that, more than anything else, that gets to him. The idea that Bail could rip through Rey’s brain, pulling out all the parts of her that makes her  _ Rey, _ revealing all her hidden fears, all her precious, intimate memories.

_ “I want to,” Rey interjects, and Ben goes quiet. “It’s stupid, really. Nonsense. It’s just this voice saying, ‘The sun will keep you safe.’ Isn’t that ridiculous?” _

Bail lifts his hand again, and Ben--

Ben fights back.

* * *

_ “That’s it?” _

_ Ben has never heard such callous disgust said in his own voice. He stares at the large holographic image; Deep Space in neon blue. A star chart with a prominent missing piece. _

_ “The last piece has been removed,” the First Order officer confirms in a nasal voice. “We don’t know by whom, but it was done long ago.” _

_ “Skywalker,” Ben--No, it’s Bail, no it’s Kylo--whispers maliciously, and the First Order officer does not bother to confirm. _

_ Kylo glares. Without the missing piece, the map is useless, and Skywalker lives to fight another day. _

_ His lightsaber powers on with a scream, and Kylo turns, slashing apart the nearest control desk with a wild, untamed fury lit in shivering red light-- _

* * *

Ben is thrown out of Kylo’s head like he’s been bucked off a shaack. He lies there, dazed, blinking slowly upwards.

When he turns his head, he only gets a glimpse of Kylo’s shocked face before it’s shuttered close, a mask as firm as any physical one pulled over it.

“Well,” Kylo murmurs. “This is the first time in a very long time you’ve managed to surprise me.”

When Kylo lifts his hand again, he doesn’t even bother diving back into Ben’s head.

Instead, he hits a button on the side of the chair, and a neurotoxin burns through Ben’s veins.

* * *

_ “Ben. I heard it again.” _

_ Ben’s eyes slide open. Through the small sliver of moonlight cascading through the open window, he can see Bail’s wide brown eyes. _

_ “The Voice?” Ben asks, though of course Bail means The Voice. _

_ Bail nods. _

_ He crosses the room, crawling into Ben’s bed. _

_ They have two perfectly fine beds in their shared bedroom, and two six-year-old boys can’t fit comfortably into just one together, but they manage. When The Voice comes--that dark, whispering, lurid Voice--they automatically seek the other’s presence. Some nights, it’s Ben crawling to Bail. Other times, it’s Bail, reaching out for Ben. _

_ “What did it say?” Ben asks. _

_ Bail swallows. His eyes shine in the moonlight. The two boys lie on their sides in the dark, facing each other, and their smallest expressions are so similar it sometimes seems there is a mirror in between them. _

_ Like an instinct, as sure and ancient as brotherhood, Bail grabs for Ben’s hand, squeezing it tightly. _

_ “He told me to not be afraid.” _

* * *

“Do you really want her blood on your hands, Ben?”

It is the first time Kylo has called him by his name since they met again on Takodana. Ben forces his eyes open. His head feels like it’s been smashed in by a speeder, his body is shaking like a twig in a hurricane, and if he doesn’t get to either stand up straight or lie perfectly flat soon he’s going to bleed his entire face into his mouth from his nose.

The neurotoxin made Ben feel like his veins were on fire. He looks down, and is somewhat surprised to find his body has not been reduced to ash.

“You won’t hurt her,” Ben mumbles.

“What makes you say that?”

“Because I will ask you not to.”

Kylo cocks his head. “Oh, Ben.”

He stretches both hands out now, and Ben’s spine goes rigid, his mouth opening in a silent scream--

_ Wake up, Ben. _

* * *

_ He’s standing on a bed of moss, under thin, misty sunlight, staring out over an endless sea. A soft ocean breeze blows, and he brushes his hair out of his eyes, as sea salt lands on his fingers. A shiver wracks him, and he gets to his feet. He turns his head, looking further down the green hill he stands on. _

_ Standing further down, closer to the rocky shores, is a girl dressed in white. Her head is turned away, towards the sea Ben had just been looking at.  _

_ He would recognize her anywhere. _

_ “Rey?” _

_ Rey turns, tipping her head up to see him in the poor sunlight. She looks deeply confused. _

_ “What are you doing here?” Ben asks. _

_ Rey frowns. “I’ve seen this place before.” _

_ As she speaks, she turns her head, taking in the grass, the moss, the sea, the light. The island. _

_ Over her shoulder, Ben sees something dark, moving closer, towards Rey. A shadow dripped in red. Automatically, Ben moves, taking a step closer to the shadow and Rey, one hand stretched out. Rey looks at him. _

_ “Rey,” he whispers. “Rey, run.” _

_ The lightsaber pulses manic red light, and Rey screams, and Ben screams, and the island, the sea, the galaxy screams-- _

* * *

Ben gasps, eyes flying open.

Kylo is no longer standing next to him, but away, closer to the wall.

The screams echo in Ben’s ears. He’s trembling, his heartbeat threatening to outpace the machine trying to keep track of it. Blood is spilling more quickly out of his nose, but he can’t focus on it.

“The island,” Kylo says. “What island was that?”

“What just happened?” Ben asks, and is vaguely impressed at how non-slurred his voice is. “What did I just  _ feel?  _ Who was screaming?”

“Where is the island? Which system?”

“A million voices were screaming just now, and then they were  _ gone _ , something awful has happened--”

“The Republic is no more.”

Ben freezes. His heart continues to gallop.

Slowly, he turns his head to look at Kylo. Kylo’s face is impassive, though his shoulders are tense.

“What do you mean?” Ben asks, hating how soft his voice is, hating that he already knows the answer.

“The Hosnian System has been destroyed,” Kylo says, speaking quite calmly, as if he were only commenting on the weather. “The First Order has successfully developed a weapon capable of annihilating entire systems. The weapon was just tested, and found to be a triumph. The Republic is over. The First Order reigns supreme.”

Ben stares.

And stares some more.

His brother stares back.

A soft noise comes from Ben then; he wishes it was a derisive snort, but instead, it is a muffled sob. He looks away, turning to the ceiling, suddenly blurry with the moisture in his eyes.

“An entire system,” Ben whispers. “Plants, and animals, and people. Kriff. All of those  _ people. _ They never had a chance.”

“It was time for the galaxy to see what happens to opponents of the First Order,” Kylo says. “Now that they know what we are capable of, every system will line up to bow to us. The Resistance would be suicidal to continue this reckless fight.”

_ This reckless fight. _

_ “The only fight,” Maz replies, keeping soft, sympathetic eyes on Rey. “The fight against the dark. Through the ages, I’ve seen evil take many forms. The Sith. The Empire. Today, it is the First Order. Their shadow spreads through the galaxy. We must fight them.” Moving more insistently, she holds the lightsaber out again. “Take it.” _

_ Wake up, Ben. _

“You asked me why I gave myself up,” Ben murmurs. Hot tears slide down his face, to mingle with the blood from his nose, and he knows he must look wrecked.

“I did.”

“Do you still want to know? Or do you already know, and are just ignoring it?”

He turns his head.

Kylo is studying him, unmoved.

“I wanted, so badly, to be wrong,” Ben whispers. “I wanted to believe that my… my stupid carefulness, my… my hesitation, my fear… I wanted it to be for nothing. I wanted to have spent the past six years running for no reason. I wanted to know that I should have, for once, taken a leap of… of faith, and believed that despite all the evidence… that my brother was still here. I have  _ always _ known you,  _ always  _ been right about who you are… and for the first time, I wanted nothing more than to be  _ wrong.” _

Kylo watches him.

“Bail,” Ben whispers, and chokes on the name. “Bail, please. Our whole lives, it’s been you and me… Please. I am my brother’s keeper, remember, you are my--”

His heart thuds pathetically.

He thinks he knows what it’s been about; what the voice saying  _ Wake up, Ben, _ has been trying to tell him.

He’s spent the past six years asleep. He’s been locked out of the Force.

And it was all because he was so afraid. Afraid to acknowledge, and accept, the catastrophe, the loss, the grief.

He’s been in deep denial over what has become of his brother.

“It doesn’t have to be this way,” Kylo murmurs, and Ben thinks of how different they must look, Ben with his busted, bloody face and shabby clothes, Kylo with his immaculately clean face and expensive black robes. Identical faces and bodies be damned, it’s their insides that are carving them individual now. “You can join me. We can become whoever we want to be.”

“Not like this,” Ben murmurs.

He thinks about Finn. Brave, friendly Finn, born into brainwashed slavery with the First Order, conditioned to kill, and still; choosing not to do it anyway.

He thinks about Rey. Clever, glowing Rey, raised in loneliness and starvation in a desert wasteland among the wreckage of a past war, and still; remaining true to her own kindness.

The universe, Ben knows, is full of good people.

“If you don’t give me the map,” Kylo whispers, “Then I have to take you to the Supreme Leader. And he will  _ destroy _ you to get the map. You’ll die.”

The First Order, Ben knows, is not.

“I would rather die,” Ben whispers, “Than let the First Order get the location of the last Jedi.”

_ Because, _ Ben thinks,  _ then Luke will have a chance to not be the last Jedi. _

_ Mom will get Rey to him. She will. _

Leia Organa is a strategist, possibly the best one in the galaxy. She’ll have learned of Rey’s Force-sensitivity, and used her political smooth talking skills to convince Rey to train with Luke; or maybe Luke will talk to Rey, and show her all she could learn to do and become as a Jedi. And then it’ll be Luke and Rey, and hopefully someday Finn, and maybe even more, against Kylo and the Knights of Ren. And Ben Organa-Solo will only be a memory, an anecdote in a Jedi history text.

_ There once was a sad man who could not bear to be alone. _

“I think…” Kylo’s voice sounds odd. Ben blinks, and gets his eyes to focus on him. Kylo looks deeply, almost traumatically, unnerved.

“I think you  _ want _ to die,” he says.

Ben isn’t surprised. He’s focusing so hard on burying the memory of that fragment of map that he’s essentially projecting all his other thoughts and feelings. His loneliness, depression, grief, guilt, and shame; the air is thick with it. 

It is so much, to ask a nineteen-year-old man to spend six years completely alone with that kind of loss; the loss of his best friend and twin, the loss of his family, his home, a life he’d spent over a decade preparing for, and the loss of his connection to not only all of that, but absolutely  _ everything in the galaxy _ . Ben had always known he was never going to last long. He couldn’t spend forever knowing he lost his best friend, his twin, his other half, his brother, to the dark.

Before that day, Ben had never been alone; and he knows now he is not meant to be alone.

_ There once was a sad man who could not save his brother. _

“I never had a reason to do it,” Ben whispers. “And I couldn’t. I couldn’t do that to Mom and Dad. Not after we’d lost you. If I killed myself after that; it would kill them too.”

He had only hoped that he would die well, someday; he’d die as good as possible.

And Kylo Ren; he is not a good man.

Bail Organa-Solo was.

“For what it’s worth,” Ben says, blinking against the black spots that have begun appearing in the corners of his eyes. “I forgive you for what you did then. And I forgive you now, for what you’re about to do.”

This seems to unhinge something in Kylo. He lifts his arm, and the Dark Side coils around them, as Kylo indulges in the Dark, and the Memory Walk, the Torture by chagrin, burns like a wildfire in Ben’s mind.

His worst memory, the worst day of his life, for them both to relive.

To endure.

* * *

(The map.)

_ The Temple is on fire. Ben skids in the wet mud, ice-cold rain pelting his thin sleep tunic, turning his skin frozen and slick with water. Though it’s raining hard enough to cause a monsoon on most worlds, the Temple continues to burn, a handful of stormtroopers watching the flames. _

(Show me the map.)

_ Ben turns, squinting through the storm. He can see a few lightsabers in the distance, held by similarly rain-soaked figures. He begins to run towards them. _

(The map.)

_ It’s dark, after midnight, but Ben can recognize the faces of his classmates. There’s Vesper, her blonde hair in its long braid turned black as an oil spill in the rainwater; there’s Lior, his tattooed, Thranta Rider head reflecting the light of the single, bright moon; Hansa, with his tawny-colored eyes seemingly glowing on their own; and Saffron, her alabaster, Palliduvan skin illuminated by her lime green lightsaber. _

_ And standing over the body of another classmate, Kelsese, there-- _

(Show me the map, Ben!)

_ It’s Bail, his hair damp and matted to his skin, turning to lift his blue lightsaber, his dark eyes sharply contrasting to the luminescent blade. _

_ Ben, still running, starts to yell: “Bail! Bail, what’s happening? Bail--” _

(THE MAP)

_ “Come with me,” Bail says. “Ben, come with me.” _

(THE MAP)

_ Saffron’s toothy smile has something feral in it. Hansa’s face is tight with pain. _

_ Bail is a stranger in Ben’s twin’s body. _

_ Ben stops running. “Bail?” _

_ “Join us, Ben,” Vesper coos, and Ben thinks about how her laugh makes everyone laugh, how she cried when her mother dropped her off the first time at the Temple, how last week she called Ben’s dimples ‘cute,’ and nowhere in these recollections can Ben place the young woman looking alluringly at him now. _

_ Bail has eyes only for his brother. _

_ “You and me.” _

(THE M A P)

_ “Not like this,” Ben whispers. “It wouldn’t be you and me. It would be us, and Snoke.” _

_ The five teenagers in front of him seem to hiss as one. _

_ Ben takes a step back. _

_ “If you aren’t with us,” Bail murmurs, “Then you’re against us.” _

(Ben.)

_ The four Jedi, the two Knights and the two apprentices, behind him raise their blades, lines of blue, green, and purple. Each color is spazzing, and changing, and Ben’s heart roars with the horror of it. There is blood in the blue and green and purple, and blood in the air and blood, everywhere. _

_ Bail’s lightsaber does not lower. _

(Ben, if I fail here, I have to take you to Snoke.)

_ “I can help you,” Ben says, practically begs it. “I’ve helped you fight Snoke before, remember, I’ve always heard him too--” _

_ “That was before,” Bail says, with an elegant shrug. “Now Skywalker’s tried to kill me. There’s no going back. Only forward.” _

_ “That can’t be true.” _

_ Bail’s grin is a snarl. “You wouldn’t believe the things that can be true.” _

(It was all true, Ben.)

_ “There is nothing left for you here,” Vesper taunts. “You’re alone now. The last one.” _

_ “Or not,” Lior says, lightsaber rising, until Bail jerks an arm out, and he goes flying. _

_ “No,” Bail says, eyes locked on Ben. “Am I not my brother’s keeper?” _

(Don’t make me do this. Anything but this.)

_ Hansa laughs. “Run, Jedi.” _

_ “You’re all alone,” Saffron calls. _

(We are right: It’s always been you and me.)

_ Ben runs. _

(Give me the map, Ben.)

_ Ben runs. _

(Please.)

* * *

Ben wades back to consciousness, struggling against the rising tide of the unconscious. He is far away from the serene water he’d floated in earlier. He is horribly aware of how alone he is, how lost he is, how hopeless he is.

There is a slow trickle of blood sliding out of his left ear; he can hear it hit the metal floor below. Yet the blood and tears on his face seem to have dried, for his mouth and nose feel too stiff to move. His brain pounds, slowly, and Ben comes to realize the pounding he’s hearing is his heartbeat, almost alarmingly slow.

Through his good ear, he can hear voices.

“... have to, now. No other option.”

“All of them, I expect.”

“It’s their last stand. They’ll want to make it count.”

The voices abruptly cut off. Ben can hear movements, two people walking towards him, and with his left cheek pressed to the metal of the chair, he opens his right eye.

Kylo is there, arms crossed tightly over his chest. At his shoulder is a beautiful woman with gold blonde hair tied back in an elegant plait. She’s dressed in black like Kylo, though without the cape.

She wiggles her fingers at him. “Hi, Ben.”

“Vesper,” Ben mumbles.

“It’s Celosia Ren, actually. But I guess you won’t have known that, not under that asteroid you crawled under. Or wherever the hell you were.”

“It wassn’t a ‘stroid.”

He blinks, as Vesper looks to Kylo. “Did you scramble his brains?”

“He’s stronger than I expected. Stronger than he used to be.”

Vesper cackles. “And so you didn’t even get the map. What a fun lesson for you; never underestimate an Organa,  _ or _ a Solo. He’s got the blood of both.”

Ben’s head swims. The wave, the soft, warm water, approaches.

Ben jolts as his restraints suddenly come undone, and his chair straightens. With nothing to hold up his trembling body, he collapses, falling face-forward to the ground. He barely manages to turn his head, saving his nose from a certain fracture, as all of the breath leaves him in an  _ oof. _

His body feels broken. His mind feels crushed.

_ Help me, _ Ben thinks, wildly, but the Force only croaks around him.

He’s hauled up, two stormtroopers taking each of his arms. They pull him forward, dragging him along between them, while Kylo and Vesper--Celosia--walk ahead, both masked again.

Ben rallies, trying to focus, to take note of his surroundings. He doesn’t think they’re on a ship; even with artificial gravity sensors in place, everything feels a little too stable. This is likely some kind of base, filled with stormtroopers, officers, and apparently, the Knights of Ren.

_ Does the First Order have a main base? _ Ben wonders, straining to hear anything over the sound of his muddy boots scraping the floor behind him. He might be able to hear more clearly if his ears weren’t dripping with his own blood.

They walk for what could be ten minutes or ten hours. Time doesn’t mean anything to Ben anymore.

He does snap out of his exhaustion-induced daze when a set of heavy metal doors slide open, revealing a massive dark room. It looks to be completely empty, tall unmarked walls seemingly endless. Kylo and Vesper march in unison, reaching some unknown point at the same time, and stopping. Ben is dragged to them.

They stand, the two Knights of Ren, the two stormtroopers, and the very weak man in between for a few moments of tense silence. Ben wonders what they are waiting for.

When his question is answered, he can’t help but wish it wasn’t, that instead he spent the rest of his life hanging limply between two stormtroopers.

The man projected in the hologram is ugly. He is tall, thin, vaguely humanoid, and a heavy scar bisects the top of his skull. Though the hologram makes him fuzzy and blue-colored, the sneer on his face can be seen from several systems away.

“Go,” the man says, waving a hand. And just like that, the stormtroopers release Ben. He falls to the floor in a huff, Kylo and Vesper looking down at him, their expressions hidden behind their masks.

The man waits until the stormtroopers have disappeared before speaking again.

“Ben Organa-Solo,” he rasps. “The nephew of Skywalker, the Crown Prince of Alderaan, and the last Jedi Knight. It is so…  _ satisfying _ to meet you.”

“I know who you are,” Ben manages. He grunts, forcing himself up, resting precariously on his knees. “I’ve heard your voice before. Snoke.”

Snoke grins, and it is positively feral. “But you failed to listen.”

“You didn’t say much worth listening to.”

Kylo and Vesper remain silent as Snoke  _ cackles. _

“That  _ sass,” _ he drawls. “Your defiance, even now, after you’ve been interrogated to the point of torture and have blood spilling out of your face. I can see the cracks in your mind from here. What a brave little creature you are. You are certainly your mother’s son, aren’t you?”

“Can’t say I’ve heard that one before,” Ben mumbles. As a child, he was most often compared to Luke, due to his quiet, his thoughtfulness; or maybe Han, if he was being unusually obnoxious. But he was rarely compared to Leia. It was Bail who was; Bail who is their mother’s son.

Ben squeezes his eyes shut as the room spins.

Snoke addresses Kylo: “How did this…  _ pitiful Jedi,  _ resist  _ you? _ You, with the might of the Dark Side, and all the prowess bestowed on you by the grace of my training!”

“He is stronger than he knows,” Kylo says, head tilted up to the massive apparition. “And he’s spent six years cut off from the Force; to have it back now it’s… infusing him--”

“Pretty excuses,” Snoke snarls. “Acknowledge your failure, Kylo Ren. Pray that I am able to extract the map from this broken Jedi’s brain before the Resistance can reach Skywalker, so your incompetence may not be catastrophic for our plans.”

Ben looks over. Bail’s head is bowed, the eye slit of his mask turned towards the floor. Vesper is positioned similarly at his side.

“You are weak,” Snoke murmurs. “Weak for the boy who was once your brother. You are the Master of the Knights of Ren; if you cannot renounce your past, then what use are you?”

“I have,” Kylo murmurs, “I have--”

“You have yet to prove it to me.”

“I will, I--”

Snoke’s hand lifts, and Kylo automatically quiets. Snoke turns his attention back to Ben.

“You have been hiding,” Snoke says, “From your destiny. When your brother asked you to come with him… You said  _ No. _ And yet, you did not take up arms with the petty Resistance, either. What is it you want, Ben?”

_ “I think you want to die.” _

_ “You have the eyes of someone who wants to run.” _

_ “I wanted to understand what I was feeling and experiencing, how the Force was running inside me. I wanted to be a Jedi.” _

_ “I understand wanting to be safe.” _

_ “But if you want to… I dunno, make things right? Come back to the Resistance.” _

_ “I don’t believe for one second you don’t want to see her as badly as she wants to see you.” _

_ “I want to stand beside my brother again, Bail.” _

Ben breathes in deeply, swallowing his wince at the pain in his head as he does so. He is uncomfortably aware that everyone in the room is looking at him, distinctly aware that he is much more of an open book than any of them.

He is so, so tired.

“I want,” Ben breathes, “To make my own choices.”

_ “Promise me something. Promise me that whatever you do, whatever you become… Promise me that it will always be your choice.” _

“Ah,” Snoke breathes. “You want freedom. You could find that with the Knights of Ren. You could embrace your true potential, by turning to--”

“No,” Ben says.

_ She nods, and turns, and she and BB-8 are running, jumping and sliding, and she is all bright, warm light-- _

_ “Rey.” _

_ She pauses, turning to look back at him, a quizzical frown marring her features. _

_ He takes her in. _

_ “Rey,” Ben says, “Don’t be afraid.” _

_ “Sure,” she says, easy. “You should remember that, too.” _

Ben  _ smiles. _

He looks up, looks directly into the eyes of the hologram creature in front of him, this artificially massive being, this vaguely person shaped monster, this demon that stole Bail Organa-Solo from a family who loved him, this fiend that toppled the resurgence of a religious dynasty before it had a chance to exist, this ghoul that whispered in Ben’s head, this personification of evil that led the First Order to destroy an entire system and republic.

Ben looks directly at Snoke, and Snoke;  _ blinks. _

“I want,” Ben says, “To be able to forgive my choices.”

He swallows, hard, and continues, “And joining the First Order, and  _ you, _ is the farthest thing from a choice I can forgive. I know you’ll torture me into insanity. I know I will be begging for death long before you kill me. I know you will force my brother to watch me die. And I think… No, I  _ am _ okay with it. Because I will die knowing I kept Luke Skywalker, and the future of the Jedi, out of your disgusting hands. I will die knowing that I saved people; even if it’s just one person, that’s more than I ever have done before, and much more than  _ anything  _ you could ever do.”

He finds himself breathing heavily.

He takes solace in the fact that he somehow isn’t crying.

He’s just acknowledged he is going to die, and he doesn’t even feel relief; he only feels… peace.

He is no longer afraid, and what a strange feeling that is.

Snoke stares down at Ben, still prone on his knees on the hard black floor.

“Well,” Snoke murmurs, “Skywalker truly did a number on you.”

Ben shrugs. “Are you looking for some kind of quip here? ‘I am a Jedi, like my uncle before me’? Like that?”

“You have absolutely nothing of value to me.” Snoke turns his gaze up, to Kylo and Vesper. “Bring him to me. It’s time to end this nonsense.”

* * *

Ben is once again dragged by stormtroopers, but finds he’s better able to support himself this time around. His head is much clearer, too; something in that room snapped awake in him. He feels wide-eyed, thrumming with energy, like he’s in a ship in deep space, and the stars are pinpricks of light outside the window--

_ “Stars die all the time.” _

_ I can’t remember how the story ends, Mom, _ he thinks, and allows the wave of pain knowing he won’t ever get to ask Leia to tell it to him.

But the pain does not swallow him; not anymore. His grief was so steeped in shame and guilt, and all he feels now is…

Warmth.

The weird procession continues, Kylo and Vesper--though he really should be calling her Celosia--leading the way, Ben and the stormtroopers following. He’s been trying to pay closer attention to the layout of the base, for lack of anything else to focus on, and every now and then he gets a glimpse out of a window, where he sees tall, snow-colored mountains, and an awful lot of red light.

Whatever the red light comes from, whatever it means; it isn’t good. He can only hope the Resistance is well aware of it, that they have a plan to combat it.

They’ve just rounded yet another ninety degree corner when Ben feels it.

Feels  _ him. _

A lightning strike. A blink and you miss it phenomenon of pure, crackling energy. A once in a lifetime flash.

In unison, Kylo and Ben turn their heads in the same direction, though the presence they have felt in the Force is certainly not within visibility range. They move here because it’s instinctive; they move because they are looking for someone they’ve reached for their whole lives.

“Han Solo,” Kylo whispers, at the same time as Ben breathes,  _ “Dad.” _

He and Kylo look at each other, and more than ever, Ben wishes he could see Kylo’s face under the mask.

Kylo snaps to attention, turning to Celosia.

“Take Fallow with you,” he says, brusque. “And comm Evoleth and Qirin to meet you on Supreme Leader Snoke’s dreadnought. He will need to get started right away on recovering the map from the Jedi’s mind.”

“And you?”

Ben watches Kylo’s fists clench. “I have unfinished business here.”

“No,” Ben whispers, and for the first time, he actively fights the stormtroopers’ hold. They aren’t prepared for it, and Ben manages to stand, eye-to-eye (or, eye to mask) with Kylo Ren. “Not Dad, Bail, you--”

Kylo lifts his hand, and rather than use the Force, he physically grabs Ben around the throat. Ben feels his leather-clad fingers sinking into his skin.

“You might have made peace with your fate,” Kylo snarls, and Ben chokes, scrabbling for Kylo’s arm. “But I have not. I have yet to become who I am meant to be. And  _ nothing _ will stop me. Not Han Solo, and not  _ you.” _

He lets go.

Ben drops, gasping. A stormtrooper hits him square in the back for his trouble.

Kylo walks away.

* * *

Ben is half-pulled, half-walked to an open landing depot, and this is where he first witnesses the red fire being pulled from the sky and into the ground. It is blinding, and Ben winces, unable to look at it directly.

Celosia glances at him, but says nothing.

There is a similarly dark-coated figure waiting in front of a large transport. He’s slightly shorter than Celosia, with broad shoulders covered in a heavy black metal armor. If Ben were to guess, he’d guess it to be made of phrik.

The masked figure nods. “Ben.”

Ben nods back. “Lior.”

He can practically hear Lior’s teeth clench in a snarl. “It’s Fallow Ren.”

“Sorry,” Ben says, not feeling sorry at all, “Missed that part at the mixer.”

Behind her mask, Celosia makes a strange retching noise that if Ben were being kinder, he might think was a snort.

“Gallows humor,” Fallow muses. “How quaint.”

The shuttle is sparsely furnished, with a very small crew of two officers to fly it. Both officers glance back, expressions blank at the sight of their new passenger. Ben is herded none too gently into an actual cell in the corner of the transport, with actual bars; the bars are humming, and emitting a soft yellow light that Ben knows would not be soft if he were to touch them.

Celosia and Lior--Fallow, and Ben needs a datapad to keep track of these aliases--approach the bars.

“No daring escapes, Organa-Solo,” Fallow says. He retrieves an intimidating blade from a scabbard at his side, and presses it to the metal; the blade instantly turns red hot, threatening to melt. “Although;  _ daring _ was never a good word to describe you, was it?”

Ben shrugs, but Fallow isn’t wrong.

Celosia says nothing; only stares at him from behind her mask.

“The Supreme Leader will tear you apart,” Fallow continues. “Think on your sins. If I’m feeling up to it, I might take your confession later.”

Ben rolls his eyes. “Switch off,  _ Fallow. _ Don’t make me spend my last hours listening to your space gas.”

“What’s that phrase the Alderaanians coined, after their world was blasted to kingdom come by the Empire?” Fallow asks, seemingly unperturbed, save for the hard line edging his tone. “I do think I remember it; enjoy your  _ last trip home, _ if you will,  _ Ben.” _

He stalks off, Celosia on his heels.

Ben can’t help but be a little surprised at how calmly Fallow reacted to his antagonism.

“I think I will,” he murmurs.

* * *

It is very shortly after take-off, when they’ve just physically left the metal floor of the base, when Ben feels her for the first time.

Like a stella nova emerging from complete darkness. A presence that makes the hair on his arms stand up. A glimmer a lost pilot feels when encountering an angel of Iego.

_ Rey. _

He had always known she was bright. But now, with the Force open to him, he sees just how bright she is. Blinding. A neverending beam of starlight. Luminescent.

_ It’s you, _ Ben thinks, feeling undone suddenly, but unable to deny the familiarity overwhelming him.  _ It’s you, I know you, I’ve missed you…  _

She isn’t alone, either; he can feel Han, and a somewhat dimmer presence that he instantly knows is Finn.

They aren’t too far; somewhere on the base. Ben has no idea what the layout of the place is, or even where he is, but he knows that them being here must have to do with the weapon the First Order has used to destroy the Hosnian System. And if they are here, then it means they either haven’t gotten to Luke, or Rey has refused, or--

_ It could be any sliver of the galaxy, or nothing at all. _

_ “It’s incomplete,” Rey breathes, and he nods. _

_ “Of course it is,” he says, and he can’t prevent the bitterness from coming out. _

Kylo had told him they needed one last fragment to complete the map, based off the records they’d recovered from Imperial archives. But what if the Resistance didn’t have any of those records? What if Leia had been counting on a full, complete map?

_ No. _

Cold rolls through Ben. In his head is a copy of that fragment. Kylo hadn’t been able to unearth it, but Snoke, unknown and powerful Snoke; there is a chance he could. That he could retrieve the map from Ben’s brain, despite Ben’s best efforts to protect it. It was one thing to keep his brother out; it is another to keep a powerful longtime Force user out.

And then the First Order would have the path to Luke.

And that would be it. Luke Skywalker, legend, beacon of hope; annihilated. The last Jedi Master; felled. How could the freedom fighters of the galaxy rally and continue on without that?

_ They can’t. _

He knows what he has to do.

Ben backs up, pressing his back against the frigid metal of the wall of the transport, and sinks to the floor. He crosses his legs, taking care to stay as far back from the bars as he can. He closes his eyes.

He can feel the snow below, the darkness of deep space above. A glimmer of a silent, quivering forest nearby. All that annihilating, terrifying red light. Black and white shades of the First Order, stormtroopers, TIE fighters. And below it all, the lightning strike and the stella nova.

_ Dad. Rey. _

There is no peace in Ben Organa-Solo’s death if it comes just after giving the First Order what the Resistance failed to acquire.

There is only one thing left to do.

He is out of time.

He presses his bare palms to the wall behind him, splaying his fingers against the cold metal. He squeezes his eyes shut, and focuses, narrowing his attention down to the snow-covered tundra below.

The voice of the Last Jedi Master,  _ his _ Master, speaks from Ben’s memory:  _ “Breathe. Just… breathe.” _

Ben breathes.

And then he  _ pulls. _

The transport lurches.

Distantly, he can hear the officers talking, one of the Knights interjecting with questions of their own. But these are actions happening far away from Ben. He’s too caught up in pulling the earth up to him, and by consequence, the transport down to it.

They are angling down now, and Ben adjusts his palms, turning them at a better angle, for the most ground below. He can hear shrill beeps and whistles as the transport’s alarms begin to go off, signaling a failure of the engine, signaling that the officers piloting the transport are unable to bring it back to a cruising altitude. They are in a free fall.

“What are you doing?”

Sweat drips down Ben’s blood-stained face.

_ “The hell are you doing?!” _

He hears a sharp  _ fizz _ noise, and a yelled curse.

“Don’t, Fallow, the bars--”

“Where’s the fragging combination to power them down? If we don’t stop him, this whole ship will crash--”

Ben bites his lip. Though they’re pressed to freezing cold metal, his hands are starting to feel hot.

“Do you have a death wish, Ben?!”

“He does.”

Ben opens his eyes. While Fallow is panicking, desperately trying to dismantle the illuminated bars preventing the Knights of Ren from reaching the rebel tearing their transport out of the sky, Celosia is stunningly calm. Though her mask is still on, Ben can feel her green eyes on him, can sense that they are heavy.

Hot tears slide down his face, to mingle with his sweat.

The transport groans. A sharp hissing noise indicates panels are beginning to fly off. Outside one of the windows, he can see a new orange glow that is separate from the unknown red light; he’s witnessing the engines burning up as they struggle to fight the unknown power forcing them to fail.

Ben’s eyes snap away from this phenomenon, back to Celosia.

“Well, I don’t,” Fallow snarls, and he unclips his lightsaber from his belt, igniting it, a long beam of red light, and Ben is too close--

_ Let it be my choice. _

He lets go of the transport, instead lifting his hands to the ceiling, and  _ yanking _ down.

The roof collapses on the three of them. He hears a scream, a tearing sound, shrapnel scratching, and then a roar, as the snowstorm outside thunders into the shattered transport. Ash, snow, hail, smoke, metal, sparks, and fire rain down.

Ben falls.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Memory Walk, a.k.a. Torture by chagrin, was a Dark Side Force ability. The Force user reached into their victim's mind and forced them to relive the worst memories of their life, over and over, to the point where it seemed to cause physical pain. Kylo performs the Memory Walk on Ben, bringing them both back to the day the Temple burned, and Bail walked away; it is Ben's worst memory. And it seems to mean something to Kylo, too.
> 
> I will be ignoring all canon material on the Knights of Ren, substituting my own take. In this story/universe, the Knights are all former Jedi Apprentices or Jedi Knights. They are all very familiar with Ben, as he is with them.
> 
> The 'I am a Jedi, like my uncle before me?' quip is the kind of in-movie joke that JJ Abrams would have LOVED, so I put it here. I don't mean to suggest that Ben knows what he's parroting what Luke said to the Emperor in ROTJ. It's just more of the "same eyes, different people" theme. And Ben as "Luke's wholeheartedness meets Han's sass."
> 
> I have made this story the first part of a series, titled (for now): Binary Star Systems. I am some 22,000 words into a sequel. So I recommend bookmarking / subscribing to the series, and/or subscribing to me the author for updates on that.


	8. To run where the brave dare not go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> My choice, Rey thinks, looking at the Skywalker lightsaber, the blade that had called to her on Takodana.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to the folks who have commented!!! It means so much to me.

Though Han and Chewbacca seem to anticipate an argument from Rey, she doesn’t give it; she is more than content to sit back and let them pilot the _Millennium Falcon_ themselves. There is something strangely religious about it. She feels like she is witnessing a bit of history, right in front of her eyes.

Or a memory.

 _“She was picking up on how you’re unconsciously interacting with the Force. It’s probably why you could pilot the_ Falcon _so well without flying before; you were moving instinctively, tapping into the lives of everyone else who has ever flown the_ Falcon.”

She swallows hard, trying not to think about who had said those words, who’d been sitting in the pilot’s chair of this ship so recently.

Finn, as if he can sense her distress, reaches out and gently covers her knee with his hand.

“You okay?” he asks.

Rey nods. “Nervous.”

“You and me both,” Finn breathes.

Chewbacca glances around, and roars, _“If you weren’t nervous, we’d have a real problem.”_

Rey translates for Finn, and then asks, “Why?”

“Because then we wouldn’t be the only ones running half-cocked into a mynock nest,” Han grunts, studying the nav computer, and not bothering to look up. “We’d have to consider your and the big deal’s stupid heroics.”

“Big deal?” Finn echoes.

Han does look up then, glancing behind him to meet Finn’s eyes. “That’s you, kid. Only a big deal in the Resistance could convince not just Leia but the rest of the Resistance Leadership to sign off on this crazy mission.”

Finn looks almost touched. Rey hides her smile behind her palm.

 _“Starkiller Base is on Ilum,”_ Chewbacca suddenly interjects. “ _It’ll be cold. There should be spare coats in the captain’s quarters.”_

Rey nods, grateful for Chewbacca’s foresight. Even if the nights on Jakku could be cold, she knows they will have nothing on the frozen wasteland planet that is Ilum. She takes hold of Finn’s wrist, pulling him out of his seat and further into the ship.

* * *

The closet in the captain’s quarters is jarringly full of clothes; _nice_ clothes. Rey and Finn stand in the small doorway, mostly in shock, taking in the rows of bright colors and fabrics lining the walls. It isn’t a big closet, but between the two of them, they are used to monochrome wardrobes; Finn in black and white, Rey in tan and gray. To see such diverse options is arresting.

“Feel this _leather,_ Rey,” Finn says, rubbing his cheek over a rich brown vest.

“Look at this _shirt,”_ Rey breathes, rubbing a pale pink satin blouse between her fingers. She wants to wrap her entire body in the fabric, though there unfortunately isn’t enough of it. They are supposed to be looking for coats, but… 

“Oh, this is it.”

Rey looks over. Finn has unearthed a cape, patterned in red, white, orange, and yellow lines. He shrugs it on, surveying himself in the mirror. The cape brushes the top of his leather boots.

“Yeah,” Finn says, giving his reflection a nod. “This is it.”

“Will it keep you warm enough?” Rey worries.

“Doubt it,” Finn admits, shrugging it off. “I think Poe’s jacket will be fine. I just wanted to see what coats Han has.”

Rey laughs. She’s found a heavy parka, dark blue in color, with fur lining the hood. It probably isn’t as fashionable as Finn’s cape, and might even deter any fast movements she wants to make, but it is undoubtedly warm. It’s a bit too large for her, swallowing her up, but she finds that comforting.

Finn nods in approval. “Good.”

With coat on, they exit the closet. As they walk past the entrance ramp, Rey is reminded of the last time she had stood there, aiming to retrieve her staff, when she’d been given a very different weapon by Han.

“Finn,” she says, stopping him with a hand to his arm.

“What is it?”

Rey unclips the Skywalker lightsaber from her belt, and holds it out to him. Finn stares down at the cylinder in her hands for a long moment.

Then--

“What is that?”

She can’t help but laugh. “It’s a lightsaber.”

“Oh. _Oh.”_ Finn stares at the lightsaber, understanding brightening his eyes. “Okay. Um. Stellar?”

“I guess,” Rey allows, “But I want you to have this. It’s a weapon, a good one. And I think…” 

_“I can’t see the brightness like she does, but I could still… recognize it. I’ve spent enough time meditating with the Force to get a glimpse of it when it’s strong, no matter what’s wrong with me. And, Rey… It is strong in you. Finn, too, but he’s much more muted.”_

“I think it could help you,” Rey says. “I have a… a feeling that you can use it. Use it well, I mean. You can use it well. It’s good for defending yourself, too. A blaster can’t do that.”

Finn nods. “Yeah, that’s true. But what about you?”

“Oh, I’ve got one.”

From the opposite side of her belt, she unclips Ben’s lightsaber, and the two of them study the two hilts. They were obviously made by different Jedi, with different metals, different crystals. Ben’s is thicker than the Skywalker one, and definitely not as well-crafted. But they are undeniably two very powerful weapons made from a design so ancient Rey and Finn can’t really fathom it.

“This is Ben’s,” Rey says. “This… This lightsaber--” She shakes the Skywalker one “--Once belonged to Luke Skywalker. When we were at Maz’s, it… it _called_ to me. I saw… I saw terrible things with it. Memories, I guess. Ben told me that it was because I’m Force-sensitive, that I was connecting with it. And I think you might be too, Finn.”

Something small churns in Finn’s face. “Really?”

“Really. I can’t describe it. But I feel… I feel like I _know_ you. Like… Ugh, this is hard--”

“No,” Finn says, shaking his head. “No, I feel it too. I think.”

They look back at the lightsabers.

“But, Rey,” Finn says, “If the… Skywalker lightsaber called to you, shouldn’t you keep it?”

Rey shakes her head. “I’d rather not. I still feel… strange about it.”

“That’s comforting.”

“I’d rather not use it,” Rey says, firm. “That’s just me. But if you’d rather have Ben’s, then I will.”

Finn immediately snatches the Skywalker lightsaber from her hand.

They both stand in perfect stillness. Rey pinches her lip between her teeth, studying Finn’s expression, searching for a reflection of her earlier trauma. But Finn only stares down at the lightsaber in silence.

He looks back at Rey. “Nothing. Is that bad?”

Rey shrugs. “I don’t know. But maybe just… carrying it won’t hurt? Maybe you’ll end up needing it.”

“I do feel pretty astral.”

She laughs. “You’ve always been astral, Finn.”

Finn smiles at her. He clips the lightsaber to his belt, and then puts his hands on Rey’s shoulders, staring at her very intently.

“We’ll get Ben,” he says. “Okay? We’ll make it in time. And then we’ll all come back here, and you and I will kick his ass at Dejarik.”

Rey hiccups a laugh. “Right.”

“And hell, then maybe the three of us will get to go off and do that Saleucami job. ‘Cause someone should.”

“Yeah,” Rey says, sobering up a bit. “You’re right.”

Finn nods, similarly solemn. “We’ll save him, Rey.”

Rey blinks back at him.

_I hope so._

* * *

“You can’t land at lightspeed!” Finn exclaims, his wide eyes conveying that he never imagined this statement needing to be actually said.

“We won’t be landing,” Han snaps, “Just entering the atmosphere. Okay, let’s--”

“Mr. Solo--”

 _“I have a bad feeling about this,”_ Chewbacca says, but is still readying the landing sequence.

_“Now!”_

Rey is jolted forward in her seat, immediately glad she’d heeded Han’s warning and strapped herself in; as it is, she nearly gets herself thrown over Han’s shoulder. Ilum rushes up in front of them all at once, a mass of stone and snow--

 _“I am pulling up!”_ Han yells, and Chewbacca roars.

Finn seems to have been struck by mute horror.

Rey is flattened in her seat as they climb skyward, the sky above only gray and white, and part of her wants to laugh, which she ascribes to an atrocious recalibration of her body being yanked so forcibly from lightspeed. They crest over the top of the mountain, suspended between weightlessness and gravity, before being pulled back down to earth. As she watches, Han turns the nose of the _Falcon_ down, and they careen through tall, beautiful green trees, until the transparisteel window of the _Falcon_ is a blur of wood and pine.

“If we get any higher, they’ll see us,” Han snaps, while privately, Rey thinks it’s too late for that. They are absolutely smashing through this forest.

The _Falcon_ eventually slides to a stop, precariously close to the edge of a cliff. The four of them stay frozen in their seats, listening as the _Falcon_ sinks into the snow, settling down.

“Well,” Han says, running a hand through his gray hair. “That could’ve gone worse.”

 _“Could’ve gone a lot better too,”_ Chewbacca says.

Han, Chewbacca, and Finn get to their feet. Han and Chewbacca are still arguing, grumbling about the landing, while Finn trembles minutely. He touches Rey’s shoulder as he prepares to leave the cockpit.

“You okay?” he asks.

“Yeah,” Rey says, offering him a small smile. “A little disoriented. Give me a minute.”

“For sure.”

Finn leaves, and Rey turns her gaze to the window, and the snow outside, and the massive steel base built into the rock of Ilum. She’s never seen anything like it, though she knows that isn’t saying much; hopefully Han, with all his experience dealing with the Empire, will have a better idea of what they are facing.

She closes her eyes, breathes, and reaches out.

_Ben?_

She can dimly hear the wind outside roaring, the screaming of TIE fighters and other First Order transports tearing through the air, the creak as the _Falcon_ settles further into the ground, the soft voices of her friends in the ship behind her. She strains, reaching further, trying to feel.

And… Nothing.

 _It doesn’t mean anything,_ she reminds herself. She really has no idea what she’s doing; Ben could be standing right outside and she might not know.

Deep down, though, she doubts.

She can only hope that her not sensing him is due to her lack of prowess, and not due to him being dead.

 _Wait for me,_ she thinks, wildly, even though she knows that nothing about Ben at Starkiller Base is in his control.

Even though she knows he really doesn’t owe her anything.

* * *

It is revealed that Finn’s plan to disable the shields protecting Starkiller Base from attack is less than well-thought out; it is not thought out at all. And this is how Rey ends up standing before a chrome-plated stormtrooper, holding her at blaster point, and feeling very out of her depth.

“You’re making a big mistake,” the stormtrooper says.

Finn’s eyes are sparkling. Rey doesn’t know his relationship to this stormtrooper--Captain, going by the rank on her chest plate--but she gathers it was largely hostile. The stormtrooper keeps calling Finn ‘FN-2187’, and going by the way Finn’s shoulders tense, she learns that FN-2187 must have been his name while he was a stormtrooper. She wonders where the nickname _Finn_ came from, and who gave it to him.

Still, she bites her tongue; this is Finn’s moment, and his retribution.

She watches as he and Chewbacca force the stormtrooper into a garbage chute. 

“You know,” Han says, and Rey turns to him. His mouth is curled at one edge, and he tugs gently at the sleeve of her parka. “This was mine.”

“Oh,” Rey says, frowning. “I mean, I assumed, since it was in your closet.”

Han nods. “Well, you weren’t wrong. I just… I forgot I had it, until I saw you wearing it. Glad it’s getting some action again.”

Rey doesn’t really understand the point of this interaction, and is considering asking, when it hits her; Han is just talking to her for the sake of talking. Casually conversing. Offering up a bit of his history. Speaking like friends do.

“I…” Rey starts. “I’ve never had a coat.”

Han’s face softens. “I guessed as much, kiddo. And, uh… I know you said you remember flying to Jakku when you were a child; do you remember from where?”

“No,” Rey murmurs. “I don’t even remember my parents.”

“But you want to?”

“Of course,” Rey says, frowning now.

Han nods thoughtfully. “Well, uh. I can’t say this with any real certainty, since the Republic has been destroyed, but… There’s a database in the Republic Department of Health. DNA from all over the galaxy. If you want, we can test yours, and see what comes up. Might narrow down which system you came from, at least.”

_“Really?”_

“Yeah. No guarantees of anything, but it could be worth a shot.”

“I’d _love_ to,” Rey says, and Han nods.

“Then we’ll do it. As soon as this is over.”

Rey can only stare at Han in joy and hope. Finn and Chewbacca join them.

“The attack will be starting any moment,” Finn says. “So we have to find Ben soon, before this place gets blown to bits. Rey, can you… You know. Use the Force?”

Rey thinks of her earlier failure in the _Falcon._ “I don’t think so.”

Finn turns aghast. “Can you try? We really don’t have anything to go on here.”

 _“The tech room,”_ Chewbacca interjects. _“Maybe there will be schematics of the base.”_

“You’re thinking a cell block?” Han asks.

Chewbacca nods. _“Like father, like son.”_

“What’s that mean?” Finn wonders, but Han only rolls his eyes, already turning. He and Chewbacca hustle into the abandoned room, while Rey turns her attention away. She walks forward a few steps, reaching the massive window at the end of the hall, Finn trailing her.

Outside the window, snow is falling. A couple speeders shoot past, stormtroopers on them, going about their duties. Further away, they can see the weapon of Starkiller Base charging, drawing fiery red light from the sky and into the ground. It makes all the white snow appear to be tinged in blood.

“Can I help?” Finn asks, looking at Rey beseechingly.

She shakes her head. “Probably, but I don’t know how. Let me just… think for a minute.”

As Finn backs off, giving her space, she closes her eyes.

_Ben._

She searches desperately for that blast of warm air, the beam of sunlight, the shocking bit of familiarity that is Ben’s presence in the Force. But there is none, only a silent stillness, and Rey is ready to weep for her inability to help, when--

A _spark._

Like a single ember flicking off a bonfire, sparkling in the air, before dimming out entirely.

Rey’s eyes fly open, in time to see a First Order transport, halfway to the atmosphere, suddenly begin to dive back to the ground.

“Whoa,” Finn says, stopping in his tracks. “Do you see that?”

Rey nods, mutely. As they watch, the transport appears to stutter, like it’s fighting something that is preventing it from continuing its journey to space, though the transport is untethered and doesn’t seem to have any outward issues. The whole transport is shaking. It’s closer and closer to the snow-covered ground of the planet.

And then it _collapses,_ the transport’s roof seeming to cave in.

As it does, Rey feels something violent and hot, a branding iron to her brain, and she gasps.

“Ben,” she whispers.

They watch as the transport crashes back to earth.

* * *

_“_ _Are you sure?”_ Chewbacca asks.

Rey grips her parka tight in her hands, staring impatiently at the sign indicating which floor the lift is on. They’d entered on the ground floor and gone up four stories, which had seemed to take no time at all. The way down, however, is taking ages.

“I’m sure,” Rey says.

Chewbacca looks at Han, who shrugs. Han’s hands are clenched tightly into fists.

 _“And the ship…”_ Chewbacca trails off.

“It crashed,” Finn confirms, glancing at Rey.

She has not felt Ben since the transport landed, hard, in the snow.

They have to reach him.

The doors to the lift finally open, and the four of them spill out into the snow. The transport is a smoking mass ahead of them, but this is not the only change to the open tundra. There are two other ships scattered about: a TIE fighter, and an x-wing.

And the gray sky is lit with color, red and blue lights.

“The Resistance,” Finn says, unnecessarily.

For a moment, they can only stand there, and watch the battle happening above. The Resistance navy, consisting of x-wing starfighters, a-wing interceptors, and y-wing starfighters, zip through the smoke-stained sky, sending off blasts of light, taking down First Order ships left and right. But the First Order is not easily defeated, and their TIE squadrons burst out from multiple hangars, quickly moving to engage the Resistance navy.

It is painfully obvious that the Resistance is outnumbered.

“Kriff,” Han breathes.

Rey squares her shoulders. The battle above is certainly a problem, but first, there is the issue of the downed First Order transport ahead.

She begins to run.

The snow is falling, lightly, but the smoke from the battle is much more of a deterrent, forcing Rey to slow, lest she slip on the ice buried just under the frost. She squints hard, searching in the space in front of her, focusing on the large dark mass that is the transport.

She feels him before she sees him.

He’s as clear as a spring lake in the evening, as warm as the touch of a lover in the dead of night, as bright as the rays of a brilliant winter sunrise. Rey has never felt anything like it, like him.

Ben appears out of the smoke and snow like a mirage. His light shirt is stained: black with smoke, singed by flames, discolored by sweat, and red with blood. His face is not any better; bruised, cut, and streaked with blood.

But his eyes, his dark brown eyes, are wide, and clear.

“Rey,” he says.

And then he stumbles.

She’s at his side instantly, wedging her shoulder under his arm, and helping him stand. He leans on her, gasping a little, and specks of blood pebble Rey’s sleeve.

“Ben,” she whispers, “You’re alive.”

“Barely,” Ben admits.

His arm draws over her shoulders, his hand finding her free hand, and squeezing.

He is alive, and he is here.

“I felt you,” Rey says, in wonder. “On Takodana, and here, now. I knew you were on that transport, that’s how I knew you were out in this storm. I _felt_ you.”

Ben’s smile is a balm. “That’s my girl.”

_“Ben!”_

Finn emerges from the gray light. He slips to them, taking Ben’s other side, helping him straighten.

“It’s good to see you,” Finn says.

“I can’t believe you’re both here,” Ben replies, sounding a bit dazed. 

Chewbacca is next to arrive, _“It was his idea.”_

“Yes,” Rey confirms. “Finn and your dad; it was their idea.”

“But we wouldn’t have known you were out here without Rey.”

Han walks straight to Ben, and Rey and Finn immediately relinquish Ben to his father. Han throws his arms tightly around Ben, cradling his son’s neck in his hand, as Ben presses his face into his father’s shoulder. Chewbacca comes around to place a gentle paw on Ben’s back.

“Dad,” Ben says, and Rey’s chest lurches as she realizes Ben is crying. “Bail is… I think Bail’s gone.”

“Gone?” Han repeats, pulling away to look at Ben’s face. “He’s dead?”

“He’s Kylo Ren,” Ben says. “All… _All_ Kylo Ren. He…”

Ben’s hand trails over his face, brushing under his ears and nose, and Rey understands. The bloodstains on Ben’s face and shirt are all dry and faded; they could not be the result of injuries sustained in the transport crash. They’re older than that.

_Oh, Ben._

“He did this to you?” Han says, and his hands flutter around Ben’s face, clearly unsure how to deal with a Force-related injury.

Ben nods, biting his lip. Tears are sliding down his gaunt face.

Han straightens with resolve.

“C’mon,” he says, wrapping an arm around his trembling son’s shoulders. “Let’s get out of the snow.”

* * *

They return to the _Falcon._ Ben shakes like a newborn paralope, and Rey can’t help but remember the last time they stood in this space and he told her that his childhood nickname was _Limbs._ It is all there in how he can’t seem to put himself together, even though it’s obvious now his lack of finesse is due to the aftereffects of torture.

Finn fetches a cup of Gatalentan tea for Ben, pressing the cup into his hands, while Rey takes off her parka, draping it carefully over Ben’s shoulders.

“Thanks,” Ben mumbles, and then offers the two of them a dazed smile. “Chaos twins.”

Rey frowns. “What?”

“That’s what I think you both are,” Ben says. “You create havoc and confusion everywhere you go, yet you do it as a seamless team. Ergo; chaos twins.”

“You’re delirious,” Finn says.

“I’m right,” Ben mutters.

Han returns from the cockpit. To Rey’s surprise, he’s carrying one of their many crates of explosives.

“Change of plans,” he grunts, and begins stuffing detonators into his coat pockets. “The Resistance needs our help. Chewie and I are going to go into the base, see if we can tear a hole through the thermal oscillator, enough for the Resistance to get through and blow it up.”

“I’ll go with you,” Rey and Finn say in unison.

“I will too.”

Everyone turns as Ben gets to his feet, gamely depositing his still-full mug of tea on the technical station.

“No,” Han and Rey reply.

“You’ve just been _tortured,”_ Finn says, aghast.

 _“You just survived a crash,”_ Chewbacca says, pragmatically.

“I can’t just sit here,” Ben snaps. “This is my fight, too.”

He looks to Rey as he speaks, and Rey is instantly reminded of Maz’s words to her.

_“The only fight,” Maz replies, keeping soft, sympathetic eyes on Rey. “The fight against the dark. Through the ages, I’ve seen evil take many forms. The Sith. The Empire. Today, it is the First Order. Their shadow spreads through the galaxy. We must fight them.” Moving more insistently, she holds the lightsaber out again. “Take it.”_

She studies Ben now.

“Is that your choice?” she asks.

He holds her gaze.

_“Promise me something. Promise me that whatever you do, whatever you become… Promise me that it will always be your choice.”_

“It is,” he says, resolute.

Rey smiles.

_“Rey,” Ben says, “Don’t be afraid.”_

_“Sure,” she says, easy. “You should remember that, too.”_

Han clears his throat.

“Well, kid,” he grunts. “You’d better grab a coat.”

* * *

Rather than make Ben give up the blue parka she tucked around him, Rey returns to the closet in the _Falcon._ This time, she picks a white coat that is a little smaller, and fits around her more smugly.

When she emerges, Han gives her a _look._

“What?” she asks, self-conscious.

But Han only shakes his head. “Good choice, kiddo.”

In the galley, she finds Ben, drinking straight from a bottle of amber colored whiskey. He sees her come from the corner of his eye, and lowers the bottle, holding it out to her.

“Want some? Finn’s already had a swig.”

With the alcohol, his pale skin has warmed somewhat, making him look more human.

“No, thanks,” Rey says. She’s never had alcohol, and is certain trying it now, in this most critical moment, isn’t a good idea. 

Ben nods, carefully screwing the lid back on the bottle, giving the action more attention than it really merits. And then he looks at Rey.

“So,” he says. “You know about Kylo Ren. About Bail.”

Rey nods. “Your parents told me.”

“It isn’t something I like to talk about.”

“I understand,” Rey murmurs.

“I wanted to tell you,” Ben says, and he reaches out, wrapping his hand around Rey’s wrist. “I really did. I just wasn’t sure how.”

Rey shakes her head, thinking of her earlier acknowledgment: “You don’t owe me anything.”

Ben frowns at her. His thumb is rubbing circles into the skin of her wrist. “I’m not sure that’s true. But even if it was; there is a difference between doing something because I have to, and because I want to. When it comes to you… I want to. I… I want.”

The air is suddenly thick. Rey swallows, forcing her gaze to leave Ben’s, searching about for something to say, trying to remind herself that they are in a very precarious situation and running out of time here. And then she remembers why she’d searched him out in the first place.

“I have something for you.”

She stretches her arm out, his lightsaber in her palm.

Ben stares at it.

Then, very quietly: “Where did you get that?”

“Your mum,” Rey says. “She gave it to me, in the hope I’d be able to give it to you. She said that you left it behind six years ago, and that she understood it was your way of telling her goodbye.”

“And now, it’s her way of saying hello.”

Rey nods; Leia had said exactly that.

Ben straightens up.

He reaches forward, wrapping his hand around the hilt. 

His fingertips brush her palm.

* * *

In silent agreement, Rey and Finn do their best to go as slow as possible while not being obvious about it. Ben might be determined, but the fact remains that he’s gone through serious trauma in the last day, and Rey and Finn suspect his body is liable to collapse at any moment.

Unfortunately, they’re on a bit of a time crunch; Resistance lives are being lost every minute, and the First Order gets closer and closer to annihilating the base on D’Qar.

Han and Chewbacca decide to make their way further into the base, towards the thermal oscillator’s conduit. Rey, Finn, and Ben go a different way into the subterranean complex, for Rey to pick apart the minute details preventing them from reaching the conduit itself.

In the here and now, she pulls open a hatch while Finn and Ben talk quietly behind her.

“So… Kylo Ren.”

“He was once Bail Organa-Solo,” Ben says, softly. “My twin brother.”

“I never saw his face, no one did,” Finn says. “But we knew Kylo Ren wasn’t his real name. All of the Knights of Ren go by pseudonyms. Do you…”

“Yes,” Ben confirms. “I knew them all. We were classmates, studying under Luke Skywalker, to become Jedi.”

Rey can’t see Finn’s face, but she imagines it looks close to her own; awed, and a little horrified.

“Two of them were here,” Ben continues. “Two Knights. They were in the transport with me. I don’t know if they survived the crash as well; it didn’t seem wise to check.”

“No,” Finn agrees.

Rey yanks a socket out of the wall. “Done.”

She straightens, turning to face the two men. Ben is a shadow of himself, gaunt and haggard, like he’s lived ten painful lives since Takodana; yet there is something there, something _other_ about him now. She aches to talk to him, to try to understand, to parse through everything Leia and Han told her about Bail, to get Ben’s take on things. She hopes there will be a later time for this.

The three of them study each other.

“We should catch up with Han and Chewie,” Finn decides. “Ben, how are you doing?”

“I’ve had better days,” Ben says. “But you aren’t leaving me behind.”

Rey understands that feeling.

* * *

They return to the main part of the base, and find a small lift that carries them up and up and up, towards the battle-strewn sky. Night has fallen over Ilum, and if Rey squints, she thinks she can see stars above the lasers and ships.

“Thank you,” Ben says, quietly.

She and Finn look at him. 

“What?” Rey asks.

“Thank you,” Ben repeats. “For coming for me. I can’t… I can’t imagine how difficult that must have been, to make that choice. For you, Finn, especially, with your history with the First Order, I…”

“Hey, hey,” Finn interjects, lifting a hand to squeeze Ben’s shoulder. Ben has always towered over Finn, but their height difference seems much smaller now, due to Ben’s slouching; and also due to the more confident aura Finn has projecting lately, as he leads this ragtag team of rebels. “Don’t sweat it, man. It was barely a choice. You’re our friend. Our second friend.”

He looks at Rey as he says this, and she grins, nodding.

Finn, her first friend; Ben, her second friend. 

“Neither of you were my second friend, I’m afraid,” Ben says, “But you were the first friends I’ve had in six years. I think that counts for something.”

“We can be your _new_ first and second friends,” Finn says. “Version 2.0.”

“Ben, Version 2.0,” Rey says, softly.

Ben looks at her, and she sees something new and clear in his eyes:

_Conviction._

He’s changed since Takodana. She knows it could be due to the trauma and the torture, but she thinks it’s more than that. It’s like a light has been turned on in Ben, like he has been instilled with purpose, like some kind of blindfold has lifted and he’s seeing a new world.

Ben Organa-Solo, Version 2.0.

Ben Organa-Solo, reborn.

* * *

They stumble onto a platform, much higher up than they’d meant to go. Finn immediately begins looking for a staircase, but Rey and Ben have both frozen.

Ben, because he can feel who is below.

Rey, because she can actually see them.

Han is walking with purpose, moving quickly to a long gangplank in the middle of the massive room, above an unending abyss. In the middle of this gangplank is a figure clad in black, barely visible in a room that is already blindingly dark.

Ben is still, stuck in the doorway by the lift. There is no small trace of pure terror in his eyes.

Below, they hear Han yell: _“Bail!”_

Rey and Finn run to the railing, Ben trailing behind them more slowly. Rey can sense the dread dripping off him among the wet snow.

Far below, the figure in black has stopped on the gangplank. Han walks towards him. Though they are far away, their voices carry, echoing in the room.

“Take off that mask,” Han snaps. “You don’t need it.”

“What do you think you’ll see if I do?” The man replies, voice distorted by a modulator.

“The face of my _son.”_

Rey fully expects Kylo Ren to ignore this request. To her surprise, he follows it, reaching up, and pulling the mask off his head.

She’d been told by Han and Leia that Bail and Ben were identical twins, but somehow, she’s still surprised to see this confirmed. Though Kylo Ren is too far away to compare the minute details, the man below clearly wears Ben Organa-Solo’s face, though admittedly less bloody, without any facial hair.

“Your _son,”_ Kylo Ren snarls, “Is dead. He was weak and foolish, like his father. So I destroyed him.”

“That’s what Snoke wants you to believe,” Han says, and to Rey’s horror, he begins moving closer to Kylo Ren. “But it’s not true. My son is alive.”

“One of them is. For now.”

At her side, Ben tenses. Rey glances at him, but can’t read anything in his face; he’s too focused on the men below.

“Snoke is using you for your power,” Han says. “When he gets what he wants, he’ll crush you.”

Han has reached Kylo. They stand close, staring at one another.

“You know what I say is true,” Han continues, speaking softly, and Rey can barely hear him. “You’re nothing to Snoke. Just a means to an end.”

Silence falls. When Kylo speaks next, it’s with a very quiet voice, and Rey can detect… Uncertainty?

“It’s too late,” he whispers.

“No it’s not,” Han says, right away. “Leave here with me. Come home. We miss you.”

“I’m being torn apart,” Kylo says, and even so far away, and echoing, Rey is certain there is a tremor to his tone. Beside her, Ben begins to tremble physically. “I want to be free of this pain. I know what I have to do, but I don’t know if I have the strength to do it. Will you help me?”

“Yes. Anything.”

There is a thud; Kylo has dropped his mask.

On Rey’s other side, Finn looks at her, eyes wide, clearly saying, _Is this really happening?_

 _How can it be?_ Rey wonders. Kylo just tortured his brother, and yet, he’s willing to walk away from it all because his father asked?

_What do you have to do, Kylo Ren?_

Kylo holds something out in his hands to Han, who takes it.

Behind Rey, Finn, and Ben, the light suddenly disappears. The weapon has absorbed all of the dying star’s light; it’s fully charged, ready to fire on the Resistance. Darkness fills the room, save for the occasional red light. Below, Kylo and Han are illuminated by a single red spotlight.

And Rey knows what’s going to happen.

A blade of violent red erupts from Kylo’s hands, angling up, spearing into Han Solo, erupting from his back. 

Finn rears back in shock. From somewhere far away, Rey hears herself scream. Below, Chewbacca roars.

Slowly, Ben’s eyes close, and a tear slides down his face.

Han’s body jerks, quivering, and Kylo steps closer, twisting the blade. With his last breath, Han lifts his hand, and cradles Kylo’s cheek in an obvious caress. Rey doesn’t know what to make of it; she is filled only with horror and grief.

_No._

Han topples over the side of the gangplank. 

He falls, disappearing into a swirling haze of smoke and steam.

Chewbacca cries out, a howl of obvious pain. Below, a jet of red light from a bowcaster hits Kylo Ren in the side. He drops to a knee, his pained hiss reaching Rey, Finn, and Ben above.

“C’mon,” Finn murmurs, snagging Rey and Ben’s sleeves. “We gotta go. That weapon’s charged, but hopefully Chewie and… And Han set the charges. This place is gonna blow.”

“Ben,” Rey mumbles, twisting. “Ben, are you okay?”

Ben is still frozen, staring down at his twin.

As she watches, Kylo’s head jerks up; he’s clearly staring back.

Ben is the first to look away. 

“Let’s go,” he says, and Finn leads the way back to the lift.

* * *

Back on the ground, Ben abruptly stops in the middle of their frantic run from the base.

“I have to wait for Chewie,” he says.

Finn skids to a stop. _“What?_ Ben, no--”

“He’ll be out in a minute,” Ben says. “You two go ahead and get the _Falcon_ started. Then come pick us up here.”

Rey shakes her head. “Ben, no, we should stay together--”

_“I can’t leave him!”_

She freezes, struck dumb by Ben’s yell. He’s never raised his voice to her before. He softens, realizing this, taking a moment to breathe deeply and momentarily close his eyes, before opening them again to look at her.

 _There you are,_ Rey thinks.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs. “But I need to make sure he’s okay. I can’t lose him too.”

His gentle tone speaks to her in a language she can understand.

“Of course,” she says.

“Thank you,” Ben says. He looks at Finn, and gives the other man a reassuring nod. Like Rey, Finn is appeased by Ben’s considerate gesture. They turn to go.

“Ben,” Rey adds, before she can get too far.

He looks at her.

She offers him her sympathy, and her comfort: “Don’t be afraid.”

Even in the gloom, Ben manages to smile back.

“I know.”

* * *

Rey and Finn sprint through the woods, sliding down snow and ice covered hills, tripping over fallen trees, running pelmel away from the burning base. The thermal oscillator’s shell has taken a hit, blown up in parts, and she’s optimistic the Resistance will be able to take advantage of the inside job Han and Chewbacca did to make it that way.

Finn reaches back, and she uses his arm to help balance her as she slides into a glen.

“Thanks,” she says.

Finn nods, turns, and--

They aren’t alone.

Ahead of them stand three figures. Two are unknown to her, masked, in black and leather; she would guess, based off their bodies, that at least one of them is a woman. They are both holding lightsabers emitting strong red beams of light.

And with them is Kylo Ren, still unmasked, his own lightsaber held aloft, though it spazzes, strangely unstable.

He stands awkwardly, favoring one side. The snow under him is speckled dark red.

“So,” he breathes, as Finn and Rey come to a slow stop in front of him. “The traitor and the scavenger. Where is Ben?”

He suddenly moves, lifting his free hand, and hitting himself in the side several times, directly where he must have been shot by Chewbacca. 

Finn looks at Rey, but she keeps her gaze locked on Kylo Ren.

She can’t figure out how she ever looked at him and saw Ben. Though their features are identical, there is nothing of Ben in his eyes. They are dark, abyss-like, and filled with such rage and hate it is nearly dizzying. She focuses.

“You’re a monster,” she hisses.

He sneers. “And Han Solo can’t save you from me.”

Rey is filled by _rage,_ an animalistic rage, and it is this rage she blames as she lifts her blaster, and points it--

And Kylo Ren raises his hand--

And she is lifted in the air--

She shrieks, as she is thrown ten feet high--

 _“Rey!”_ Finn shouts, as her back slams into the trunk of a towering tree.

She is unconscious before she can hit the ground.

* * *

She wakes to the sound of Finn’s scream.

It is a primal, agonized noise, and Rey stirs, finding she is lying on her side in the snow. Her back aches, throbbing with its own heartbeat. She blinks tear-filled eyes. In the mess of white and black that is the forest, she sees beams of red and blue light; Kylo Ren battling Finn, who is wielding the Skywalker lightsaber.

She is filled at once with satisfaction and fear.

She sits up, rising to help, when two beams of red light are pointed right in her face.

“Slow down, little scavenger,” coos one of the Knights; a woman’s voice comes out of the modulator.

“Wait your turn,” the other one, a man, adds. “Kylo Ren will be finished with the traitor soon enough.”

Rey staggers to her feet, taking a few steps back, and the Knights allow this. Over one of the Knight’s shoulders, she sees the lightsaber fly out of Finn’s hand, spinning away to land in the snow.

The two Knights turn to look as well.

The three of them watch as Kylo Ren slices his lightsaber up Finn’s spine, and all the air leaves Rey in a gasp.

Finn drops to the snow, either unconscious, or dead.

Rey trembles in unadulterated terror.

Kylo Ren stands over Finn. He’s huffing, gasping, continuously hitting his injured side, sending red into the snow. He glances at Rey dismissively, and then turns, lifting his hand towards the Skywalker lightsaber, its hilt half-buried in snow.

Rey hears Ben’s voice in her head. 

_“Don’t be afraid.”_

_I’m not,_ Rey thinks, though she very much is.

_“Promise me something. Promise me that whatever you do, whatever you become… Promise me that it will always be your choice.”_

_My choice,_ Rey thinks, looking at the Skywalker lightsaber, the blade that had called to her on Takodana.

She raises her arm.

The lightsaber soars through the air, nearly clipping Kylo Ren as it flies past him, to land in Rey’s outstretched hand.

She isn’t sure which of them is more surprised.

One of the Knights cackles.

“Very good,” he says. “How incredibly… _Skywalker_ of you.”

“I’m not a Skywalker,” Rey murmurs. She awkwardly shrugs her coat off, letting it pool in the snow around her.

“You certainly are not,” Kylo Ren says. He steps closer, staring hard at her, before flicking his gaze down to the lightsaber in her hand. “Which is why that blade belongs to me.”

He re-ignites his lightsaber, moving to stand alongside his Knights.

Instinctively, Rey mirrors him, an electric blue blade bursting from her hands.

It is three very powerful Knights of Ren versus Rey, a scavenger, a nobody. Three warriors who trained under Luke Skywalker for over a decade, who’ve had more than that time to explore their Force-sensitivity, to learn how to fight with a lightsaber. Against Rey, who has never held a lightsaber until now, who only learned she was Force-sensitive a couple days ago.

This is not a battle Rey can win, and they all know it.

The female Knight takes a step forward. “Give up, scavenger. You can’t fight us. You’re all alone.”

Rey bites her lip. She has no idea what to do now, what step to take, where to go. The snow is still falling, and Starkiller Base is burning, and Han is dead and Finn is maybe dying, she is well and truly alone--

A sharp _hiss_ comes from behind her.

A lightsaber powering on.

Rey turns.

Ben stands there, illuminated in the dark by his own lightsaber blade. It is a mirror image of Kylo’s, with the same crossguard design, though Ben’s is not spazzing or trembling. Instead, it seems to sing, its blade a beautiful dark blue, like a summer sky at midnight.

He walks forward, moving with a serene kind of grace that almost has Rey’s jaw dropping.

She thinks of how she came to realize that Ben Organa-Solo was not the carefree, confident man who’d bossed her around on the _Falcon,_ but the quiet, introspective man who’d spoken with her under the stars on Takodana. She thinks of how she’d been amazed at how she’d ever thought differently.

Now, she realizes she is seeing the _true_ Ben Organa-Solo.

Raw, fearless, powerful. The Force, ringing in his every step. The personification of righteousness and purpose, illuminated by blue fire.

Coming back to her. Walking to stand beside her.

A Jedi Knight.

Rey finally sees just how right Leia was to fear Ben falling to the Dark Side.

“Well hello, Jedi,” the female Knight whispers. 

Ben surveys the Knights before him.

“Lior, Vesper,” he murmurs, offering them a curt nod that still manages to come across as sardonic. “Glad you walked away from that crash.”

“Yeah, right,” the male Knight scoffs.

Ben looks away from the other Knights, turning his gaze solely to Kylo.

Across the snow, the two brothers look at one another. Kylo’s face is all rage; Ben’s is all grief.

“I can’t forgive you for it,” Ben whispers. “You killed Dad. I can’t forgive that.”

“I’m not asking for your forgiveness,” Kylo snaps.

Ben closes his eyes briefly. When he opens them again, there is a new sharpness to his features, the grief disappearing, replaced by resignation, and resolve.

“I know,” Ben says. “I understand. I could never kill my brother; but I think I can kill my father’s murderer, if I must.”

“If you _must,”_ Kylo mocks. He turns to his Knights. “Kill the Jedi. I will take _my_ lightsaber from the scavenger.”

Rey feels a new surge of fear; she looks to Ben.

One side of his face is illuminated by jagged red; but his eyes glow in the mingled blue light.

“It’s all memory,” he murmurs quickly. “Trust your instincts, and let them guide you. Stay close to me. Call if you need me. I won’t leave you. Chewie will be here soon. Kylo will not be gentle; do not hesitate to hurt him. Let the Force guide you. And remember--”

“Don’t be afraid,” Rey says.

Ben nods. “Don’t be afraid.”

They turn to face their three opponents. Though they’re poised to fight other combatants, Kylo and Ben’s eyes look to the other’s, as if drawn by a magnet, as if drawn by sheer instinct, as if drawn by a tragic instance of muscle memory. Here in the dark forest, they can’t help but search for the other. Rey wonders that if she were to try and sense them in the Force that she would find them reaching out for the other.

Gravitating to the other, like a binary star system. Twin stars that cannot help but stay close.

Rey half-expects one of them to step forward and insist that what is about to happen cannot happen.

But neither of them do.

Instead, all five of them seem to move at once, and Rey and Ben meet the red lightsabers as one.

* * *

Fighting Kylo is not like fighting Ben.

There are some similarities; he is the exact same shape as Ben, so she knows how he will move and what space he will take up. But he is far more vicious than Ben, and far less careful. His red blade hisses through the air, an occasional spark of energy flying off to embed in snow, wood, or air. Rey scrambles to avoid it, relying on her quickness to keep her out of the red blade’s reach.

She cannot see Ben and the Knights as much as hear them. Though he’s fighting two combatants, Ben doesn’t seem all that overwhelmed. More than once she hears him speak, usually something teasing, like, _“For the fiftieth time, Lior, you rely on your dominant hand way too much”_ or _“I keep thinking I’m about to chop your braid off, Vesper, I understand why you wear that helmet now.”_ Rey has no idea why he does this; his comments only seem to rile the Knights up more.

All three of those fighters are clearly not fighting at their best; Ben’s pale and bloodied face is a very obvious reminder of his recent ordeal, while the male Knight is favoring his right leg, and the female Knight is unable to lift her arms higher than her shoulders. The transport crash took its toll.

And though she’d known it just based off its appearance, there is no denying how the lightsaber is not like her staff. It’s much shorter, but far more dangerous. She swings it, and a tree is neatly sliced in half, toppling to the ground. She jabs the blade forward, and manages to land a stinging slice to Kylo’s arm. He gasps, grappling for the wound, and she immediately backs off.

He quickly turns back, nearly cutting her head off.

They continue to fight, moving deeper into the forest. Rey only gets glimpses of Ben and the Knights through the trees, their bodies only briefly illuminated by their lightsabers. Ben treats his lightsaber like it is an extension of himself, moving it with an ease that looks as natural as breathing. He uses the Force as a tool as well; she watches as he catches the female Knight’s blade with his, simultaneously turning to raise a hand, telekinetically throwing the male Knight off his feet, before turning back to the female Knight and tearing his blade up to knock her off-balance.

That move, where he raises his hand, and uses the Force; she’s seen him do it before. But that was when the two of them sparred under the stars on Takodana, when Ben was closed off from the Force, and that instinct to engage with the Force left him bereft and horrified. Now, with the Force _singing_ in the air around him, to the point that the falling snow seems to hover and avoid touching him; he is fierce, and unflinching, and graceful.

Comparatively, Rey knows she is choppy and uneven.

She knows she is only holding her own against Kylo Ren due to his injuries.

And a little due to the fact she’d sparred with Ben already.

She keeps all of Ben’s tips in her mind, from the way he’d corrected her grip, to the way he’d change his steps depending on her own moves. She is, for the first time, glad that Kylo shares so many of Ben’s physical attributes; it is easy to compare Ben’s steps to his, and to figure out his weaknesses and when he will make a mistake.

The forest shakes around them.

Rey doesn’t know if this means the weapon has fired, or if the Resistance has succeeded in destroying the thermal oscillator, and therefore, the base. All she knows is they are probably running out of time.

_Where is Chewie?!_

Kylo forces her to a ravine. He leans in close, and she leans as far back as she can, her spine bending, arching her over the edge. She cries out, watching as rocks below her tumble, disappearing into molten blackness.

“You need a teacher,” Kylo yells, and startled, Rey looks back at him. His dark eyes are crazed, a bit wild, and so unlike Ben’s. “I can show you the ways of the Force.”

“Force,” Rey repeats.

Their blades are locked together, blue and red crackling.

She closes her eyes.

_“It means…” Ben sighs. “It means, if you wanted to, you could learn to become a conduit of the Force. You could heal, and comfort, and protect people. But you could also manipulate, threaten, or destroy people. The Force isn’t a solely good or bad thing, and learning how to balance with it is very difficult.”_

Ben walking to her, walking in blue fire, righteous and serene.

_“I’m off-balance,” Rey insists, mourning the loss of half her weapon._

_“No,” Ben says. “You’re the balance.”_

_I’m the balance._

Rey opens her eyes.

Surging up, with a strength she didn’t know she had, Rey throws Kylo off her.

He stumbles back, and she advances.

She is on the offensive now, her ears ringing with something, a sort of savage grace guiding her movements. She swings the lightsaber blade around effortlessly, landing blow after blow, forcing Kylo back through the woods. He slips more than once, so startled by her unexpected ferocity, unable to match her surefootedness.

She swipes his arm, and he gasps. She steps close, and he seizes her wrist, and she seizes his, and they press together, sharing space. She pushes his arm down, forcing the red blade into the snow. The snow and ice under it begins to whistle loudly, as the blade burns it.

Kylo’s breath is ragged in her ear, his frustration coming out as growls.

She clenches her jaw, echoing him with her own bitten cries.

With one last cry, she shoves the blade down, and it extinguishes, and Kylo rears back.

She spins on the spot, and lands a long, jagged cut from his chest to his face. He falls back into the snow, and she stands over him, untouched.

Victorious.

Kylo is gasping, but manages to lift up on his elbows. He stares at her, eyes wide and very shocked; almost afraid.

With an almighty _crack,_ the earth opens up.

A fissure races through the forest, and Rey is borne back, thrust away from Kylo, until she stands on the other side of a newborn chasm. Kylo is barely visible on the other side, a mass of black sprawled in white snow.

Rey extinguishes her lightsaber.

Without so much as a backward glance, she turns on her heel, and runs through the forest, back to Ben.

* * *

She arrives in time to find Ben facing off with the female Knight; between them, the male Knight is sprawled on the ground, moaning in agony. Rey’s stomach rolls as she sees he’s grasping at what remains of his right leg; it’s been cut, only leg above his knee still attached to the rest of him. A short distance away lies his calf and foot.

Ben is breathing hard. He turns when he hears Rey approaching, and his features soften in obvious relief. He looks back to the female Knight, and extinguishes his lightsaber.

“Take him,” Ben snaps, “And go.”

The Knight hesitates, her red blade wavering.

“Lior is useless to you now,” Ben continues. “And you can’t take both Rey and me on. There’s no more time; the planet is collapsing.”

The shaking has intensified, and Rey glances behind her, noticing more cracks and fractures splitting up the earth.

“It would be wiser to kill us,” the Knight says.

Ben shrugs inelegantly.

“Yeah, well,” he says, _“Wise_ was not a word you ever used to describe me, Vesper.”

They stand there, in a tense stare-down.

And then the Knight--Vesper--extinguishes her blade. She bends down, throwing the fallen Knight’s arm around her shoulders, and heaving him up. The two of them begin to hobble away, and Ben turns to Rey.

“You’re okay,” he breathes, and Rey runs to him.

She throws her arms around him, leaping off her feet to do so, and Ben catches her. He laughs softly into her hair, wrapping her up tightly, and Rey presses her nose into the space between his shoulder and his neck.

“We did it,” she whispers.

“We did it,” Ben agrees.

There is no time to talk, no time to properly celebrate, because Rey looks over Ben’s shoulder, and catches sight of Finn’s unmoving form.

_“Finn!”_

Ben follows right on her heels, the two of them falling to their knees at Finn’s side. A long, burned slash runs the entire length of his back, splitting his coat and shirt, carving up the skin underneath. Rey blubbers, fumbling for Finn’s cold hand, while Ben presses two fingers to Finn’s neck.

“He’s alive,” Ben says, and Rey sobs in relief, “But his pulse is slow.”

 _Please,_ Rey thinks, _Please, please, help--_

And maybe it is the Force. Maybe it is kismet.

Or maybe it’s just a Wookiee with really good timing.

They are lit up by the floodlights from the _Falcon,_ coming to a rest at the edge of the wood. Rey is blinded, throwing her arm up to shield her eyes, but Ben is already scrambling to his feet, heaving Finn up into his arms. Rey scurries to help.

Chewbacca runs up to them. _“There you are! What happened to Finn?”_

“Talk later,” Ben grunts, and allows Chewbacca to take Finn, the Wookiee better able to accomodate Finn’s height and weight. Ben sprints ahead to initiate the takeoff sequence, while Rey jogs alongside Chewbacca, making sure he traverses the forest with Finn okay.

The _Falcon,_ naturally, does not have a medbay, so Chewbacca lies Finn on his stomach in one of the lower bunks in the crew quarters. For Rey, it feels like a lifetime has passed since she slept here with Ben, Finn, and Poe.

 _“The Resistance destroyed the weapon,”_ Chewbacca tells her. _“The base is collapsing, the planet with it.”_

“Did the weapon fire?”

_“No. D’Qar is safe.”_

She follows Chewbacca to the cockpit. Ben is in the pilot’s seat, guiding the ship towards the stars.

“I’m assuming you came here from the Ileenium System,” Ben says, “So we can take the same route back, right?”

“Right,” Rey says.

She collapses in the chair behind Ben, suddenly profoundly exhausted.

Chewbacca slides into the co-pilot’s seat, and Ben stills.

“Do you want to pilot, Chewie?” he asks, quietly.

It seems to hit all three of them at once that the _Millennium Falcon_ no longer has a Captain.

Chewbacca looks at Ben.

 _“No,”_ he says. _“That seat was always meant for you.”_

He reaches out, and places his paw on Ben’s hand, over the throttle.

They break through the atmosphere, as the planet erupts behind them.

Rey reaches forward, and grips Ben’s shoulder.

As one, Ben and Chewbacca shove the throttle forward, and they disappear into the stars.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Han and Leia's Hoth coats from TESB made cameo appearances in this chapter.
> 
> I know it is a Massive Bummer to lose Han in this universe as well. But I think it tracks with Kylo in this story, with how he has reacted to Ben's reappearance in his life, and the kind of instability and rage and fear that has created in him.
> 
> "Binary star" is a misnomer; the instinct is to say "binary stars", but binary star refers to the system of two stars. Two that are one. Ben and Bail are the personification of a binary star system. [And there might be later examples of other binary star systems later in this series...]
> 
> The choice to title this story after lyrics from "The Impossible Dream" was influenced by how there are four lines of lyrics that each well describe Rey and Ben. Since this is the last chapter for Rey's POV, here are Rey's:
> 
> This is my quest, to follow that star  
> No matter how hopeless, no matter how far  
> And I know if I'll only be true to this glorious quest  
> That my heart will lie peaceful and calm when I'm laid to my rest


	9. To right the unrightable wrong

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I think that’s really all we can say about one another. I have tried to be good. We have tried to be good.”

The flight back to D’Qar takes well over eight hours, and they don’t speak the entire time.

In silent understanding, they take turns checking on Finn. Rey sits on the floor next to the bunk Finn lies on, running her hand comfortingly over his clothed arm. (They don’t dare remove his jacket or shirt; clothing fibers are almost certainly caught up in the massive burn, and they don’t want to aggravate it further.) Chewbacca unearths a burn salve from out of nowhere and watches as Ben carefully applies it to Finn’s spine. His fingers tremble the whole time, terrified he will do something to cause Finn anguish.

But Finn sleeps.

Ben suspects this has to do with the very scary tranquilizer Chewbacca shot into Finn’s thigh.

Four hours in, Ben walks into the storage/repair bay and finds Rey silently weeping next to the storage lockers.

She looks up at the sound of his steps, and her eyes are red, her entire face blotchy. She does not cry prettily, but she cries true, and Ben thinks he might love her for it.

He walks to her side, sliding down on the ground next to her, suddenly utterly spent. He holds his arms out in silent invitation, and she crawls into them, pressing her face into his chest.

It is a sign of his exhaustion and grief that he does not lament over the fact she’s pressing her face against a shirt covered in stains from blood, sweat, and smoke. He is only so quietly relieved that she’s there.

He holds her close, and rests his chin on her head, watching as her hair darkens with his own tears.

* * *

They land on D’Qar to great fanfare, the Resistance fleet having landed minutes before them.

A wave of people are sprinting down the runway to the _Millennium Falcon,_ all of them cheering and yelling, generally elated, and Ben only feels anxiety at their joy. Rey wraps up his hand in hers, and squeezes gently, before letting go. She closes the cockpit door behind her, leaving Ben and Chewbacca alone.

Ben listens, hearing as she opens the entrance ramp, and without a hello, informs the nearest rebels that Finn is grievously injured, and he needs immediate medical attention. He hears Poe’s thrilled whoop turn into serious concern, the sound of multiple pairs of feet moving to the crew bunks, and then withdrawing again.

No one comes to the cockpit, and Ben is grateful for Rey’s distraction, and whatever else she may have said to keep them at bay.

Ben glances at Chewbacca, who is staring forlornly down at the control panel.

“I’m so sorry,” Ben whispers. His throat is almost painfully dry, his vocal cords so unused.

Chewbacca looks at him. _“I am too. Han was my longest, dearest friend. But he was your father. I expect your loss is greater.”_

Ben shakes his head, fighting the tears back. “It isn’t about whose loss is bigger. We both lost him, period.”

Chewbacca reaches forward, and gratefully, Ben lets him take his hand in his large paw.

 _“I regret what I did to Bail,”_ Chewbacca admits, and Ben’s breath catches. _“I shot him.”_

“I saw. I understand why you did it.”

 _“If I had not just experienced the most profound shock of my life, the act of shooting Bail would have been the one,”_ Chewbacca says. _“I have known you boys your whole lives. I still remember when Han put you both in my arms. I never wished to protect anything more. To know that I have gone against that wish is so hard.”_

Ben shrugs. “Bail… _Kylo_ deserved it.”

 _“Yes,”_ Chewbacca says. _“And yet. I think I will always regret it.”_

“I wanted to kill him,” Ben admits. “I think I still do. Not for what he did to me; what he did to Dad.”

Chewbacca studies him.

 _“Your father was always so forgiving,”_ Chewbacca notes. _“It bewildered me, more than once. The People of the Trees value honor and loyalty above all else, and someone who betrays those ideals is considered scum. But your father was so quick to forgive, if he thought the person had atoned, if he thought they deserved another chance.”_

“What are you saying?”

_“I think your father would forgive Bail. And I think you are your father’s son.”_

Ben looks away. Chewbacca seems to pick up on his unwillingness to discuss this further, and lets Ben’s hand go, patting his shoulder instead.

 _“Go see your mother,”_ he says, and Ben’s heart soars.

In all the grief and shock; he’d forgotten she would be waiting here on D’Qar.

He stands, opens the cockpit door, and realizes Chewbacca has not moved. “Aren’t you coming?”

Chewbacca shakes his head. _“Not yet. I think I would like to sit here quietly, on my own, for a bit.”_

“Are you sure?”

_“I am sure. Go.”_

Ben turns, and walks away.

* * *

She waits for him, about ten feet away from the entrance ramp.

The rebels who had swarmed the _Falcon_ to greet it have dissipated; Ben doesn’t know if Rey made a general announcement of what had happened to Han, or if her mood had indicated something had. Distantly, Ben can see a glimpse of tan and white following a cart into the base, and is glad that Finn will be receiving medical care at last, Rey at his side.

Ben walks down the entrance ramp, and sees her.

Like Han, his first thought is, _You’ve gotten so old._

Her dark brown hair has lightened, silver strands coiled neatly through her braids. Her skin is more lined than ever, cheeks a little rosy, mouth pursed tightly. She wrings her hands together, shifting her weight, as if unsure how to approach him, like he is a wild animal she might scare off.

She is small, so small, and he knows he will tower over her once they stand next to each other.

He begins to walk towards her, until he does just that.

Leia’s eyes are big, wide, and dark. They are his. And Bail’s.

“Mom,” Ben tries, but rather than say the word, he thinks he only mouths it.

He is twenty-five years old, and he has not seen his mother in six years. It has been a lifetime.

Ben feels himself fall to his knees in front of her, and she instantly crushes him to her, wrapping her arms tightly around his trembling shoulders and head, as if she could take him back into her like she had long ago. Ben presses his face into her abdomen, hearing a strange ripping sound.

A moment later, he realizes the strange ripping sound is him, his sobs. Him, coming apart.

“I know,” Leia murmurs, and Ben fists his hands in her shirt, the loss of Han, of Bail, suddenly so sharp and clear. “My sweet boy. My poor, sweet boy. I’m here. I’ve got you.”

* * *

She felt the loss in the Force. Knew what it meant right away.

“He was always so… _clear,_ your father,” Leia says.

Ben nods. “Like a lightning bolt.”

“Like a lightning bolt,” Leia confirms.

Here, and gone, in the blink of an eye.

“I felt you, again, for the first time in so long,” Leia whispers, “Back on Takodana. You were so close. And then to realize why you were reaching out… That you were trying to say goodbye…”

They are seated in her quarters, sitting next to each other on her bed. Ben clutches a cup of Gatalentan tea in his hands, infused with a shot of Tevraki whiskey courtesy of Leia. A medic had attempted to intercept Ben on his way into the Resistance base, but had backed down at the sight of identical glares from Leia and Ben; the whiskey and tea is currently his only medicine.

Leia has foregone the tea, drinking the whiskey straight instead.

“I had to,” Ben murmurs. “He wasn’t going to leave without the map in some form. If he got BB-8, he’d have it. And if he got Rey, he’d have it right away, or he’d torture her into giving it to him. I knew I was the best option. It would take longer to break me than Rey, and maybe by that point, you’d have gotten to Luke.”

“I know,” Leia says. “It was the right choice. It was the choice I would have made, if I were in your shoes. But, Ben; I _never_ wanted you to have to make that choice.”

Ben looks at her. There is something painfully beseeching about her expression.

“I think I pushed you too hard,” Leia says. “I never asked you what you wanted. Once you and Bail started showing more aggressive sensitivity with the Force, I panicked. I sent you both away. Bail went quietly, and I think that’s when I lost him; he never did anything quietly. And you… You cried. You didn’t want to go. And I made you go anyway. My gentle, soft boy.”

“I didn’t want to go,” Ben confirms.

_Ben blinks, hard, casting shining eyes to the little white house behind him. “What about my parents?”_

_“They just want what’s best for you, too.” Luke touches Ben’s knee. “You won’t be alone, Ben. You’ll have me, and Bail, and the rest of your class. You won’t ever be alone.”_

“But I know you thought it would be better for me and Bail,” Ben continues, “That we learn to understand what we were feeling and experiencing. And I think that was the right choice. Maybe it didn’t turn out so well--”

Leia hiccups a laugh, and Ben takes her hand in his.

“But you did it because you thought it was right, and you loved us,” Ben murmurs. “You wanted what was best for us.”

“Yes,” Leia says. “I wanted you both to be the best you could be. To be _better_ than me, and Luke, and Han. But for Bail, I think…”

 _“Better_ is not the same thing as _good,”_ Ben says. “Bail never wanted to be good as much as he wanted to be the best.”

Leia offers a wry smile. “He takes after me, in that way.”

“The difference is, you’ve chosen to be good.”

“I have tried to be.” Leia looks at him. “I think that’s really all we can say about one another. I have tried to be good. We have tried to be good.”

“I didn’t,” Ben admits. “I just… ran away.”

“You were nineteen--”

“An adult,” Ben interjects. “I was still an adult. I was still a Jedi. I could have stuck around. I could have joined the Resistance, I could have--”

Leia squeezes his hand tightly, her nails digging into his skin.

“Don’t look back,” she whispers. “The past is the past. We can only look forward.”

“I think he’s gone, Mom.”

He expects Leia to be taken aback by this change in tone, his self-flagellation turning to a hard acceptance. But she only stills, and he knows she’s been wanting to talk about this, about Kylo, but had wanted to give Ben the chance to dictate that conversation.

“I held out hope for so long,” Leia whispers. “I told… I told Han that there was still good in him, that I thought… I thought Bail just needed his father to ask him to come home. And I thought he would.” Leia shrugs, though there’s something tragic in it. “I was wrong. I was so wrong.”

“Dad wouldn’t hold your hope against you,” Ben says. “So you shouldn’t either.”

Leia smiles at him.

“I named you after the man who was once my only hope,” she says.

“I know.”

The story of Obi-Wan Kenobi is not just a galactic legend; he’s a family legend, a kind of patriarchal icon in the cluttered Skywalker/Organa/Solo family tree. Whenever Ben thinks about how he was named after him, he mostly thinks about how glad he is Leia and Han went with Obi-Wan’s nickname.

“And now,” Leia says, “I think it’s you.”

_You’re my only hope._

Ben shakes his head. “That’s an awful lot of weight.”

“Depends on what you think it means,” Leia replies. “For now: it means to me that you are someone who won’t let me fall into a deep, inescapable melancholy.”

In the past six years, whenever Ben has heard of Leia Organa, he’s always worked to think of her as just that; _Leia Organa,_ and not his mother. It was easier, and less painful for him. And it has helped him understand her better, has allowed him to conceptualize Leia Organa as she fits in galactic history, what she means to people especially. For Alderaanians, she is the caretaker of Alderaan’s legacy, the last of their Royal House. For rebels, she is the fearless and inspiring leader. For the New Republic, she was its architect and most fervent supporter. She has seen regimes fall, and rise; democracies rise, and fall.

He thinks Leia Organa’s life could, arguably, be defined as melancholic.

If Leia thinks Ben can prevent her from feeling all of that, for even a moment; then he thinks there is something kind to be said about him, and what he is worth.

Leia rests her head on his shoulder.

* * *

Finn is stable.

That is about the best news they are able to get out of Major Kalonia.

“He’ll always have the scar,” she says, quietly, running a scan over Finn’s bruised and battered spine. Rey stands close, eyes wide at the movement of the tech. “If he’d gotten here faster, maybe that could have been prevented. But no matter.”

Ben is pretty sure Finn won’t care much about the scar.

“When will he wake up?” Rey asks.

Kalonia shrugs. “Too soon to say. He’s undergone a massive trauma; the shock alone from the wound devastated his body.”

She steps away from Finn, reorganizing some instruments on a metal tray.

“Now,” she says, “What’s this I hear about a blood draw?”

Rey looks to Ben.

“Rey is looking to find out more about where she came from,” he explains. “So my… my father suggested we run her DNA through the New Republic database and see if anything came up. They have a backup server on Chandrila that should hopefully yield some results. My mother has approved the test, if you need someone from leadership to sign off on it.”

Kalonia studies him.

“You sound like the General,” she notes, but she’s already moving, pulling out a new pair of clean gloves. “Very polite and diplomatic.” She nods to Rey. “I can do that. No promises about when we’ll have time to deliver your blood to Chandrila, to get it tested; I assume Leia is calling in a favor or two.”

“I’ve no idea,” Rey says. “But I’ve waited my whole life to know my family. I can wait a little longer.”

“A similarly diplomatic thing to say,” Kalonia replies. Rey looks like she has no idea what to do with the comment.

Though clearly somewhat nonplussed, Rey holds out her arm as instructed, watching with wide eyes as Kalonia places the vial against her arm. She emits a surprised hiss when the needle slips into her skin.

Kalonia eyes her. “First blood draw?”

“First time I’ve had a needle in my skin,” Rey breathes.

“Hm.” Kalonia finishes drawing Rey’s blood, sealing the vial closed. “Then I ought to give you a few vaccines. Ben, you must be overdue for a few as well.”

“Um… Probably,” Ben admits.

“When did you last get the Toli-X shot?”

Ben sighs.

This is how he ends up sitting on the narrow stretcher next to Rey, both of them with their arms exposed, as Kalonia goes back and forth between them. Rey asks a lot of questions about the different vaccines and serums going into her body, which Kalonia answers with graceful patience. Ben stays quiet; he doesn’t care enough to know more about vaccines. And he needs to turn all his focus on not panicking over the too-familiar feeling of a needle pressing into his skin.

He has an ugly dark mark in the crook of his left arm, the place where the neurotoxin had been injected into his veins. It is raised, and sensitive to the touch. Kalonia politely skirts this raw spot, but does take a moment to examine it.

“This is another scar that will never fully heal,” she tells Ben.

Ben knows this. It is both a physical and emotional scar he will carry forever.

More than once, he notices Rey staring at his bicep with a look that is not quite polite interest in the vaccines he’s receiving. He thinks about asking her about this, but doesn’t think it’s worth potentially embarrassing her (or him) in front of the doctor.

“If you’re going to some unknown ancient planet to train with Luke Skywalker, you should get the one for the Blue Shadow Virus,” Kalonia says.

Ben hears Rey’s sharp intake of breath, while his back stiffens.

They haven’t spoken about what happened with Kylo Ren and the Knights of Ren.

They haven’t spoken about Rey calling the Skywalker lightsaber to her, or him wielding his for the first time in six years.

They haven’t spoken about being Jedi.

* * *

“Are you ready?”

Ben steels himself.

He’s sitting cross-legged on the mossy ground of D’Qar. From just behind him he can hear a handful of x-wings landing and taking off, the soft hubbub of friendly chatter, the whirring beeps of helping droids. Above him, he can hear the calls of sonar swallows, the most common bird on D’Qar; Poe had pointed them out to him, with the detached air of someone who’d been woken up by their noises far too often. And all around him, Ben can hear the soft rustling of trees, leaves blowing in the wind, bushes distracted by small critters burrowing in them.

Directly in front of him sits Leia, her pose mirroring his.

The two of them sit still, looking at each other calmly. They are alone, save for: Chewie, a short distance away, ostensibly giving them space while hunting for a lizard or two; Amilyn Holdo, one of Leia’s oldest friends and trusted advisors, frowning deeply but not speaking; and Rey, standing at the edge of the clearing looking very unsure.

“I think so,” Ben whispers, answering Leia’s question.

He has not had anyone in his head since Kylo, on Starkiller Base. And though he’s letting Leia in, his mother, someone who would never hurt him, he can’t quite hide the thrill of fear.

“We can do this later,” Leia says, a very kind lie.

They’re running out of time as it is. They’ve only got a few days at most before the First Order pulls itself together and invades D’Qar.

Ben can practically hear Amilyn biting her tongue in an effort not to voice this.

“No,” Ben says, firmly. “Let’s do it now. Before I lose my nerve.”

Leia nods, holding her hands palm out, and Ben takes them in his. Touching is not actually required for this, but he appreciates the gesture, the support, all the same.

Speaking of--

“Rey,” Ben says.

Rey pauses, halfway out of the clearing. She turns back, meeting his eyes.

“Stay, please,” Ben says.

She shuffles anxiously, but moves a little closer. “Okay. What do I need to do?”

“Nothing you don’t want to,” Ben replies. “But I would appreciate it if you would keep me grounded.”

She walks towards where he sits with Leia, who watches in polite silence. Rey stands there awkwardly, wringing her hands. Ben thinks he forgets that despite how attuned she is to the Force, she really doesn’t know anything about it.

But her light, her _light;_ he thinks she’ll keep the suffocating cold of Kylo’s invasion away as he prepares to let another mind in.

“Put your hand on my shoulder, please,” he says, quietly. “Don’t let me forget where I am, or who’s here with me.”

Rey nods. She does that, her hand wrapping around his left shoulder. He gives her one brief, grateful nod, before turning back to Leia.

“I’m ready,” he says.

“I’ll be gentle,” Leia promises, and Ben thinks, _I know._

He closes his eyes.

As promised, her nudge is careful, gentle, friendly.

That same nudge he felt when he was barely a thing, a mind, a presence in her womb. When he’d only ever known Bail, similarly incomprehensible but there all the same. In many ways, Ben had never been truly alone until he lost them and the Force in one day.

Leia reaches out to him, and he reaches back.

He will always reach back.

She steps into his mind softly, to find Bail’s memory of the incomplete map waiting for her. Ben acts as the in-between place, watching from a little further away as Leia studies the hologram. In the conscious plane, the clearing on D’Qar, he hears her speak, translating the image for Amilyn to take down, for analysis later to see how the piece completes the map.

Soft steps tell Ben that Chewie has ventured closer.

Ben focuses on the feeling of Leia’s hands in his, Rey’s palm on his shoulder.

In the memory, Kylo turns his head, and they see his reflection in the window.

He isn’t wearing his mask. Ben has no idea why; perhaps this First Order officer has seen him without it before, and Kylo didn’t feel it necessary to wear it still. But in the window, Ben sees Kylo, and therefore, he sees his own reflection.

 _You and me,_ whispers his voice, and Ben doesn’t know if it’s his own or Kylo’s.

They are the same. They have always been the same. They will always be the same.

He starts to tremble.

And then, emerging from a shadow, a splinter of light falls over the memory. It is external, did not emerge organically from within, but from outside Ben. It is Rey’s presence, soothing and soft, anchoring him. Keeping him in the real world, and not in that dark blue-lit room with his twin.

He feels Leia reaching out for Kylo; she does it automatically, as instinctively as a reflex. He thinks she always will, the price of motherhood. Part of her will forever be reaching for him.

Much like how part of Ben will always be reaching for Bail.

“Come back,” Ben whispers, and he knows it is his voice this time, because he says it outloud.

Kylo stares at his own reflection in the memory. For a moment, Ben can pretend that Kylo is looking through space and time, to this very small moment on D’Qar where, despite everything, Ben wishes he was there.

Perhaps Ben is his mother’s son, if only that he fears he will walk with melancholia forever, that he will forever be filled with grief over the boy he could not save.

Outside of himself, Chewbacca roars softly, _“We’ve got the full route.”_

“The map is complete,” Amilyn confirms, a ring of satisfaction echoing her words.

Leia leaves first, slipping away in contented silence.

Ben lingers in the dark room with Kylo. In the transparisteel window, he sees their two reflections, looking at each other.

 _You and me,_ Ben thinks, and it is a promise, it has always been a promise.

He stays there until he feels Rey start to drawback.

He chooses to follow her light.

* * *

Ben returns to himself, to the clearing, with tears on his face.

In front of him, Leia is hurriedly wiping her eyes.

“He’s clean-shaven,” she says, and part of Ben wants to laugh, because that is such a typical thing for a mother to fixate on.

“I asked him if a beard would catch on the inside of his mask,” Ben says. “He ignored me.”

“Sounds like Bail. He was always good at ignoring questions he found inane.”

She falls silent immediately; he can practically feel her shock at how she’d acknowledged Bail underneath the Kylo Ren mask.

“It’s okay,” Ben murmurs, aware that while Amilyn has hurried back to base with the completed sketch of the map, that Chewbacca and Rey have lingered. “It’s okay to miss him.”

Leia nods tightly. “While Bail was good at ignoring questions he found inane, you always did your best to answer them. You were so earnest about everything. So patient and kind. So quick to comfort. Often, you were the only one who could quiet and console Bail when he was upset.”

The implication of her words hang between them.

Ben is not ready to think about it.

He gets to his feet instead, while Chewbacca helps Leia up. Rey hovers at Ben’s side.

“Are you okay?” she asks, quietly, eyes flicking down to the tears dotting his face.

Ben nods, wiping his eyes. “Thank you for your help.”

“I’m not really sure what I did,” Rey says, slowly, like it pains her to admit it.

Over her head, Ben sees Leia give him a small amused smile, before she wraps an arm around Chewbacca, and walks with him back to the base.

“What my mother and I just did is called a Force meld,” Ben explains. “It’s when at least two Force users join their minds together, to exchange thoughts, ideas, visions, and memories. It was most often used as a technique in battle to improve concentration and coordination. The Jedi of the Old Republic were particularly skilled in this area; and Master Luke worked hard with my mother to develop it further.”

“Does it help, them being twins?”

Ben’s smile is wry. He wonders who broke that news to Rey. “Absolutely. Like I told you, the Force isn’t really genetic, but close familial ties improve just about any situation in the galaxy. It translates to an easier Force meld.”

Rey nods, thoughtful. “Why did you need me to… ground you?”

“I was not afraid of opening my mind to my mother,” Ben says. “I trust her. I knew she was only there for one specific memory. It was the memory itself that I was worried about sharing. I saw it during… a difficult time.”

“When Kylo Ren tortured you,” Rey says, not wanting to mince words.

Ben winces. “Yes. That. I wasn’t really interested in reliving that memory, particularly because it wasn’t mine. It was like having him back in my brain, seeing things through his eyes.”

_You and me._

“I had to focus on anything that reminded me I wasn’t really there,” Ben says. “And you were perfect. You, with all your bright light. That couldn’t exist anywhere near the First Order, or Kylo.”

“You’re warm.”

Ben frowns. “Um. Thanks?”

“I mean,” Rey says, a soft pink blush fanning out over the tops of her cheeks, “That while you think I’m bright; you’re warm to me. Like something comforting, something I want to stay close to. I’ve never felt anyone like you before.”

“I’ve never felt anyone like you either,” Ben admits.

They stare at each other. In the glen, Rey’s eyes seem to glow, brown, hazel, gold, green. She is like a drink of water on a summer day. A guiding star in the eye of a lost wanderer. Sunrise following the end of a long winter.

She is a mirror, and she reflects the better parts of his past.

His hopefulness, his wonder, his goodness.

“What do you want?” he asks.

Rey blinks. “What?”

“Snoke asked me that question,” Ben continues, and he sees her eyes widen. “He was surprised I’d gone into hiding. I hadn’t chosen the Resistance, and I hadn’t followed Bail. He wondered what it was I wanted.”

“What did you say?”

“I said,” Ben murmurs, “That I want to be able to forgive my choices.”

He had never felt so alive in that moment, staring down that monster. He had purpose and decision in his veins, solace and fearlessness at finally getting to choose his own ending.

Ben thinks, _I think that’s all any of us really want; to choose our own ending._

Rey considers this. “And have you?”

“Yes,” Ben says, firmly. “I have. And I will.”

Before Rey can ask, he adds, “Why did you call the Skywalker lightsaber to you, Rey?”

She frowns, glancing away from him.

“I… I knew I didn’t have a chance,” she murmurs. “I knew I couldn’t take on three Knights of Ren. I knew they’d kill me. But there was something… I couldn’t let Kylo take the lightsaber. It wasn’t meant for him. And I think…” She sighs. “It wasn’t finished with me, and I’m not finished with it either.”

Ben nods, and once again: “What do you want?”

“What you have,” Rey says, and meets his gaze. “Something… inside me, has always been there. When I’m awake, when I’m asleep. I don’t know what it is, or what it means. But I think you do, and I think… Luke Skywalker definitely does. I want to understand what it is. I want to know my place in all of this.”

“I want that for you, too,” Ben says, quietly. “And I think what we want will take us down the same path.”

_“It’s time, Ben. Don’t be afraid.”_

_I am not afraid,_ Ben thinks, and has never meant it more.

“To Luke,” Rey says.

Ben nods. “To Luke.”

“And I want,” Rey says, and stops. He frowns at her.

And Rey, Ben realizes, is not afraid either.

It is not with fear that she stretches up on her toes, uses one hand to wrap around his neck and the other to grip his shoulder, and pull his head down to hers. It is not with fear that she kisses him.

It is not with fear that Ben curves his spine to meet her halfway. It is not with fear that he presses close, wrapping his arms around her waist and shoulders.

It is with purpose, relief, and a shy, tender kind of joy.

* * *

“What’s wrong with him?”

“I’m afraid, Mistress Rey,” C-3PO replies, and Rey’s eyebrows soar at the title, and Ben snorts into his caf. “That we just don’t know. He simply powered down one day. I am of the mind that he is despondent over Master Luke’s departure. He could not handle losing him, after being together for so long.”

Ben thinks of how it felt to lose Bail.

_I can relate to that, Artoo._

The droid certainly looks pathetic now, half-tucked under a sheet, BB-8 whirring in front of him.

 _Can you fix him?_ BB-8 asks.

Rey kneels down, running her hands gently over R2-D2’s ancient shell. She pops open a few compartments, peering inside; Ben wonders what she can see. Cobwebs and dust, most likely. A spider or two. A memory of a happier time.

If there is anyone who might be able to diagnose and fix R2-D2, it’s Rey. Rey, with her encyclopedic knowledge of how things work; Rey, who has handled tech that is over twenty years old, ancient by most standards; Rey, with her patience and cleverness.

“I can try,” Rey says. She looks at Ben. “Can we take him with us?”

Ben nods.

Perhaps all R2-D2 needs is to simply be near Luke again.

* * *

Leia watches him as he folds his clothes, carefully packing them away in his bags.

He has two now, both pretty decently packed, a far cry from his slovenly wardrobe that he carted around the galaxy for six years. Leia had hung on to all the clothes he and Bail had left behind at the Temple, all the trinkets, all their things. Most of the clothes no longer fit, but the shoes do.

The rest of the clothes were Han’s.

Leia has no use for them, and she’d rather not have them near.

She has her hair coiled into a traditional Alderaanian mourning braid, as does Ben. His is much simpler and shorter than Leia’s, largely due to the fact that while his hair is long compared to other human men’s, it is still much shorter than most women’s. Rather than all of his hair being plaited neatly like Leia’s, he has only one elaborate braid hanging near his right ear. Leia had done it for him just that morning.

“I need you to be sure,” she says now, watching Ben fold a shirt.

“I’m sure.”

She frowns. “I made you go last time. You didn’t wish to train with Luke. I need to know you’re doing this for _you,_ Ben. Not for me, and not for Rey. Not for the Resistance, or even the galaxy.”

“That makes me sound so selfish.”

Her frown turns into an impatient scowl. “You know what I mean.”

Ben sighs. Abandoning his packing, he goes to Leia’s side, and takes her hands.

On her right hand is the ring he’s never seen her take off, the ring with the two dark blue stones. When he and Bail were very young, they’d found the stones during one of their walks on the beaches off the Silver Sea in Hanna City, Leia watching them from a small distance away. They’d immediately presented her with their finds. Ben doesn’t know what it was, if it was their delight at their discovery, their big smiles, or if Leia was feeling particularly nostalgic that day, but the next thing he knew, she’d had the stones placed into a ring.

Her mother’s ring, she called it. Two twin stones, for two twin sons.

“When Bail was on Takodana,” Ben says, and Leia’s breath catches, “I made my choice. I decided to let him take me. I decided to open myself back to the Force. It was a hard choice, but it was the right choice, and it was the best choice. And it was _my_ choice. I tried to project that to you, that feeling, right before I shut you out.”

_Ben! Ben, wait--_

_Save Luke, he snaps, and the thrust of his message, the emphasis knocks her away. I’ll buy you some time. My choice._

_My choice, he thinks, a message he is begging her to understand just as much as he is begging himself._

Leia nods. “I know.”

“For the last six years,” Ben says, “I actively worked to _not_ make any choices. To just exist. And I am so tired of living that way. My path now is clear. I know what I’m doing, and I know what I want. And I want to train with Luke again. I want to be a Jedi again, Mom. This is my choice.”

Leia searches his face.

He knows what she will find, for it’s what he’s been feeling so much of lately: Resolution.

“Okay,” she says. “Your choice.”

“Yes. Mom,” Ben says, suddenly reminded, “I think you told Bail and me a story about stars once. We were very young, but it’s… I’ve been thinking about it constantly for the last six years without knowing why. I can only remember you saying one thing: ‘ _Stars die all the time.’”_

“Macabre,” Leia notes. “Are you sure that was me?”

“Yeah. It was your voice.”

She thinks about it.

“I don’t remember that,” she admits. “But of course that doesn’t mean it didn’t happen.”

Ben nods. It had been a long shot anyway.

“But you know what the thing about stars is, Ben.”

He looks back up. There is something shrewd and thoughtful in her face. He shakes his head.

“Stars die all the time,” Leia murmurs, “But you can still see the light they leave behind.”

It is a very basic astronomy lesson, a simple fact Ben knows. He frowns at Leia.

“It’s interesting that you retained that memory,” she says. “That you think about it a lot, to the point of obsession, even without consciously knowing why. About stars, and death. About how loss does not always mean a final departure. That something still remains.”

“Interesting,” Ben echoes.

_Something still remains._

_Some things still remain._

She lets go of one of his hands, lifting hers to touch his cheek, and he thinks of how Han touched Bail right before Bail killed him, and he aches.

He bends down a little, so he can press a kiss to her forehead.

“May the Force be with you,” Leia whispers. “My sweet boy. My brave son. My best hope.”

* * *

Rey sits quietly next to Finn, and Ben hangs back, but can still hear the words she says to the unconscious man.

“We’ll see each other again,” she whispers. “I believe that.”

She stands, and bends over him, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead. “Thank you, my friend.”

Her eyes are a little watery when she reaches Ben, and he takes her hand.

“Mom will tell him where we’ve gone,” he reminds her. “And she’ll make sure Finn has the choice to join us, if he wants.”

Rey nods.

Ben has left a note with instructions on how to com the _Millennium Falcon,_ along with how to com his personal line. He also included the names and contact information for a few of Ben Vassic’s hauling contacts, should Finn decide he does want to explore that path. Ben hopes he doesn’t; or at least, that if he does, he’ll keep in touch.

Hand in hand, Ben and Rey leave the Resistance Base.

Whispers and pointed fingers follow in their wake. Everyone knows the map was recovered, that Ben is the son of Leia Organa and Han Solo, nephew of Luke Skywalker, and a Jedi himself. And they know Rey is the Force-sensitive scavenger who summoned the Skywalker lightsaber to her hand to fight Kylo Ren. Ben knows that whispers and rumors will trail their steps forever.

At the entrance ramp to the _Millennium Falcon_ stand Leia and Chewbacca.

Leia reaches for Rey first, embracing the young woman with clear warmth and affection. They part after a moment, and Leia takes Rey’s hands in hers.

“Please tell my brother that I say hello,” she says, “And that he needs to be kind to you.”

Rey nods. “Of course. Thank you.”

“Thank _you,”_ Leia says. “For all you’ve done, and all you will do. May the Force be with you.”

Rey steps back, and Ben steps forward, bending to give his mother one last hug.

“And you should remind Luke of that, too,” she says, tightly.

“Will do.”

“I love you,” Leia says, and Ben’s breath catches. It is not that he is surprised; it is because still, after so many years, it means so much to hear her say the words.

“I love you, too,” he whispers.

Last, he looks at Chewbacca.

Ben knows what he’s going to tell them before he does.

“You’re not coming with us,” Ben says. Rey gawks.

Chewbacca shakes his head. _“It doesn’t feel right, to fly her without Han. And Leia; I can’t leave her now.”_

Privately, Ben is enormously grateful that one member of Leia’s family will not be leaving her alone. Leia seems to share this thought, for she reaches up, giving Chewbacca a grateful pat on his arm.

Rey steps forward, smiling when Chewbacca wraps her up in a warm hug.

“Thank you for everything,” she whispers.

 _“It was my pleasure,_ jow.”

Rey smiles at the endearment. She gives Ben one parting glance, and then scurries up the ramp of the _Falcon._

Ben walks to Chewbacca, and it’s Ben this time who initiates the hug.

 _“Ben_ Kkata,” Chewbacca says, and Ben’s eyes sting at the familiar word, the nickname. The Shyriiwook word for _child,_ that is also interchangeable for _rogue_ or _scoundrel;_ the perfect Wookiee name for a son of Han Solo. _“I am proud of you.”_

“Me, too,” Ben murmurs. “I’m going to miss you.”

 _“It won’t be long,”_ Chewbacca says. _“I look forward to having a word with Luke. I have some things to say.”_

Ben laughs.

 _“Take care of her,”_ Chewbacca says, with a glance so pointed that Ben isn’t sure if he’s talking about the _Falcon_ or Rey. He doesn’t dare ask. _“And one more thing.”_

From one of the compartments on his bandolier, he holds out the gold die.

Ben stares at in Chewbacca’s palm for a long moment.

“He got it, then,” he murmurs.

 _“He knew what it meant right away,”_ Chewbacca confirms. _“He hung it back up in the_ Falcon _on our way to Ilum. But I wanted to make sure you wore it again.”_

Ben lifts it out of Chewbacca’s paw. The die looks just as it always has; a little beaten, a little scuffed. But its symbolism remains; it is an emblem of Han Solo, of his rogue way of life, of his luck, of his dedication. It is as good a reminder as any that Han Solo loved his sons more than anything else, that Han was determined to always come back to them.

Briefly, Ben wonders what Bail did with his die. If it was lost that day at the Temple; if he destroyed it; if he has it hidden away somewhere. If he ever looks at it, or thinks about it.

Ben pulls the necklace back over his head, feeling the comforting weight of the die on his sternum.

“Thank you,” he whispers.

Chewbacca hugs him again before letting him go.

Ben takes a deep breath, and boards the _Falcon._

* * *

They take off, Ben as pilot, Rey as co-pilot, and it is just like their escape from the Guavian Death Gang except it is nothing like that. They are far more sure now than they were then, than they have ever been.

It seems like the entire Resistance has turned out to see them off. Leia is at the front of the group, Chewbacca on one side, Poe on the other, and Ben knows she won’t be alone.

Plus, he’ll message her weekly.

This isn’t like the last time he left.

The stars of Deep Space blur past them. They travel.

With R2-D2 still powered down, stored by the technical station, they play Dejarik. Ben wins the first game, but Rey takes the second, with a bit of clever ingenuity Ben never saw coming. But there is a lot about Rey that Ben never expected.

In the crew quarters (they don’t venture into the Captain’s quarters; neither of them are ready for that) Rey traces the B.O.S. initials on the wall, etched in twice. B.O.S. WAS HERE, B.O.S. W--

“I thought they were just yours,” Rey murmurs, brushing her fingers over the letters. Ben lies next to her, running his own fingers over her bare arm. “That you’d been interrupted before you could finish the second sentence.”

“It was both of us,” Ben says. “My brother and me.”

It is surprisingly easy to say that: _My brother and me._

Ben Organa-Solo is the identical twin of Bail Organa-Solo, born some twenty-five years earlier, to Alliance General Han Solo and Resistance General Leia Organa. They are the only nephews of Jedi Master Luke Skywalker. They are the only grandchildren of Senator Bail and Queen Breha Organa, the last royal family of Alderaan. They are the only grandchildren of Queen and Senator Padme Naberrie Amidala and Jedi Knight Anakin Skywalker.

If it were not for Bail, Ben thinks he would have been undone by the weight of that legacy.

 _You and me,_ he thinks.

Bail Organa-Solo was in this space with Ben Organa-Solo, and he always will be, and vice versa. In many ways, they have never left the other; and they never will be able to.

_Am I not my brother’s keeper?_

It had been a question posed to Ben by Bail. A question Ben grappled with, as Bail has morphed into Kylo Ren. Ben has an answer now.

No matter who Bail, or Ben, become; they will never be able to deny the other who wears their face.

_You and me._

* * *

As Rey tinkers with R2-D2, trying to decipher what is preventing him from powering on, Ben steps into the fresher.

Staring into the cracked, ever-dingy mirror, Ben lifts a razor, and begins to shave his beard off.

The beard was something he’d started growing after losing Bail and fleeing Luke’s Jedi Temple. Though he didn’t realize it at the time, it was the start of him renouncing his past, of him turning his back on the person he was meant to be. It was a small bit of rebellion; a way of differentiating himself from Bail, and the Jedi Ben used to be.

Now, he stands in the fresher, and looks in the mirror.

Now, he looks like Bail, again; but not quite.

Now, he looks like Ben Organa-Solo, Jedi Knight.

* * *

Ahch-To is a planet covered in a dark blue ocean, with small, mountainous islands jutting out like afterthoughts. At first, Ben is worried they will have to search the entire planet for the right island; but then they slip under the clouds, and it feels like a strobe light has erupted from a single point in the sea.

“Can you feel that?” he asks, but Rey’s eyes are already zeroed in on it.

The island beckons, and they follow.

 _I’ve been here before,_ Ben thinks, when his feet touch the soil of the island.

It is the same island he saw while Kylo was rooting around in his mind for the map. There is the endless sea, the soft ocean breeze, the green moss under his feet. There are the rocky shores, and the tall green hills, and all that soft, distant sunlight.

In silence, Ben and Rey climb the single staircase running down the island like a crooked spine.

Rey leads the way, still carrying her staff. Though he doubts she’ll be training much with it, he knows that the staff for Rey is a kind of security blanket, a reminder of who she is and where she comes from. He would never dare part her from it at any point. In the bag slung over her shoulder, he can see the top of the Skywalker lightsaber peeking out.

He’s got his own lightsaber, clipped to his belt.

That familiar weight at his side, again.

They climb for a half an hour. They walk through an empty village of round huts, slowing at the sight of a burned-out fire pit. It is clear someone lives here. They venture on.

They finally see him, standing near the edge of a cliff, looking out over the sea.

He turns when he hears them approach.

Like Leia and Han, Ben thinks, _You’ve gotten so old._

Gone is Luke’s short hair and neatly trimmed beard. His hair is all gray now, and wild, fluttering under his hood. His beard and moustache are similarly long and gray. His face is more lined than ever, but when he lowers his hood, his eyes are as clear and blue as the Tatooine sky.

He stares at Ben, who stares back.

Ben inclines his head.

There are many things he could call Luke, many titles to choose from. Some familial, some formal. _Uncle Luke. Master Skywalker. Grand Master of the New Jedi Order._

He settles for one that offers his sympathy, and conveys why he is here: “Master Luke.”

Luke stares.

Slowly, his gaze turns to Rey, standing a few feet in front of Ben.

Rey is trembling a little under Luke’s ancient stare. Slowly, like she or he might spook, she retrieves the Skywalker lightsaber from her bag.

_“Promise me something. Promise me that whatever you do, whatever you become… Promise me that it will always be your choice.”_

And she offers it to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> R2-D2 just... randomly powering on at the most convenient time to reveal the rest of the map was a really lazy writing choice to me. I think it is more satisfying to have Ben be able to provide that information; one of several things he took away from his time with Kylo.
> 
> As previously mentioned, I am deep into a sequel, but won't start posting until I feel like I am both a) definitely going to finish, and b) close to finishing. I also need a title and summary. If you want to know when the sequel is posting, you'll want to either subscribe to me the author or the series itself.
> 
> In the meantime, I will plug my "canon" fic retrospective on the relationship between Leia Organa and Ben Solo / Kylo Ren: [hope is the hardest love we carry](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13562883). this story borrowed quite a bit from it.
> 
> And here are the lyrics of "The Impossible Dream" that best describe Ben's arc in this story:
> 
> And the world will be better for this  
> That one man, scorned and covered with scars,  
> Still strove with his last ounce of courage  
> To reach the unreachable star
> 
> I very much enjoyed writing this story. It was a bit of a fun exercise, though probably pretty niche. If you had a good time reading it, I'd love to hear from you. And if you liked this story: make like a podcast listener, and tell a friend.
> 
> You can also find me on [tumblr](https://theputterer.tumblr.com/).


	10. That Looking-Glass Ache

The sequel to this story, titled THAT LOOKING-GLASS ACHE, has started [posting here.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22671766/chapters/54189256)

Summary:

Would-be Jedi Apprentice Rey is underwhelmed by the lessons given to her by Master Luke Skywalker. Luckily, she has Jedi Knight Ben Organa-Solo to guide her way forward.

But the past demands to be relitigated. Power cannot be ignored. Futures cannot be diverted. In one universe, all your visions come true.

To look into your mirror is a perilous thing.

[A take on THE LAST JEDI where Leia and Han had identical twins, and only one of them turns to the Dark Side.]


End file.
